To Just Be Me
by Whisper-of-Warning
Summary: Being Valentine's daughter is hard enough as it is, him being the most sinister and malicious man of the Shadowhunter race, that being an outcast isn't helping Clary's self-esteem at all. She fights with the demons she suspects to lay dormant inside her daily and never lets anyone get too close. So what happens when she's taken in by the Lightwoods? Can they save her from herself?
1. To Just Be Me

**Another oneshot that came to mind!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all.**

* * *

Clary took a deep breath as she stared up at the large Victorian chapel. It was run-down and fairly old; to a mere mundane the decaying and ruined church would have seemed like the perfect place to create mischief. It looked foreboding and daunting; a forbidden place that made them yearn to explore. But its true image, not clouded by glamour, illusion and artifice, was of a stunning Institute; alluring in its own appeal.

The New York Institute; to be seen by only the eyes of another world, one separated from the human existence. For the eyes of lycanthropes and vampires; of fairies, warlocks and witches; of the ominous and menacing demons that lurked in each shadow and damp corner. For the eyes of the warriors made of virtuousness and purity but with the same taste for righteousness as demons had for corruption. The warriors made to extinguish the darkness of the world and to keep the humans settled safely at night; children of the Angels.

The Shadowhunters.

Clary glanced down at her attire; the black jacket she wore crossed over her chest covering every inch of skin and fit her snuggly, the black stretch pants to match fit just as well but allowed for freedom to kick, flip, and jump with ease. The combat boots, made for easy escape and balance, were perfect as she stood on her tip toes before going back to the balls of her feet. Her fingerless, leather gloves made it easier for her to grip her blade as she curled her hands into fists before unclenching them.

Clarissa Fairchild had always known she was a Shadowhunter; it had been deep in her veins and engraved in her bones for as long as she could remember, from the moment she had picked up one of her mother's kitchen knives and hurled it perfectly across the room where it landed effortlessly in the roasted turkey. She had been only 6 at the time.

She sighed and tore a hand through her mess of deep red curls; like her mother, her curls were a profound color of red, not like the usual orangeish red but more like a mysterious auburn; though not exactly the color of such to be called auburn. It didn't resemble fire as much as it resembled a dark crimson.

Like blood.

Like death.

Like gore.

But, of course, who was to expect much out of her when she was _his_ daughter. As the whispered voices of angered and suspicious Shadowhunter's said, she must have been part witch as well for the blood of innocent men and children were weaved into every curling strand upon her head. She could entice a man to her with her demonic eyes and reel him in before taking and destroying his soul. She could still hear them chanting now, hear their harsh whispers and pointed fingers; the feel of their callous stares.

_You may look like your mother in image but you shall never be chaste. You have a dark heart; it is reflected in your eyes, Valentine's daughter._

Valentine's daughter.

She didn't know why they bothered, her mother and Luke. This was her 6th new Institute, her schooling had been put off for far too long by her mother, and this would just the same. They would take one look at her and turn away; they would see the evil that lay within her. The green eyes that were windows into her soul would be read and interpreted all before she even had a chance to introduce herself. But then again why would she have too? They would know who she was. Not the girl who was a powerful painter or the girl who was given a gift from the angels. She was the girl who had been conceived by Jocelyn and Valentine Morgenstern.

The girl that was to be damned.

Some would allow her to stay at their Institute out of some sick revenge to get back at a father who could have cared less if she was dead. He needed her for only one thing truly; that's what made her so special, her way with runes. She was a weapon, something uncontrolled and ruthless. Not even she knew how to control it and keeping back apart of herself never seemed to help her in Shadowhunter training.

A calm, cool hand lay in the small of her back as she turned her head. Her mother smiled down at her, only slightly taller because of the heeled boots she wore, and tried to give comfort from that one gesture. Clary had always wished she looked like she mother; a superior queen, her head held high and her face a perfect sculpture of elegance and beauty. Clary never held the air of confidence her mother did, as she walked now; the woman who was pointed at and talked about strutted toward the door of the Institute as if the building were to bow at her feet. Clary admired her, she wore the same label as her daughter; Valentine's wife.

Clary followed behind her, Luke directing her with a warm and fatherly hand on her shoulder. She soaked up all the affection Luke had to give, never needing anything else but his approval. If she could live up to his expectations it would be fine with her. He was practically her father after all. She could feel her body tensing as Jocelyn spoke her oath and the door swung open, her stomach swirling with nausea and nerves. Luke gave her shoulder an affection squeeze before throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She curled into him instinctively just as she always did.

He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head when they reached the aged, fenced elevator. Clary had seen one similar to it in a movie once before. "Just be yourself." It was all he said, it was all he ever said. At first she used to exclaim that she was just being herself, that they never gave her a chance to show them who she was but it became too disheartening. She just waited now; for the inevitable.

As the elevator doors opened Clary felt her stomach fill with dread. Another family, another community against her existence, the feeling of disgust and repulsion was something Clary felt often from others and from herself. She had stared into the mirror and wished to become someone different; to become someone normal. But she was burned, like the sin was etched to her forehead for everyone to see.

Valentine's daughter.

Her mother walked swiftly from the elevator her soft curls lifting and softly falling down her back like red paint. Clary followed slowly behind; her mother wore her sin on her chest, like Hester did with her own adulterated sin. She never knew why; how could she be proud of the man she married? The man who she had shared a bed with? Had shared intimate vulnerability with? Clary hung back feeling more uncertain than she ever had before and Luke, as if sensing she needed the support, stayed back with her too.

She knew it was very unShadowhunter-like and cowardly but she found herself hiding her face in Luke's torso, letting her nose fill with the scent that she had always known Luke to have. He said nothing, just held her tighter; like he used to do when she was younger and had, had a nightmare or when the taunting became too much.

"Jocelyn!"

Clary could hear the surprise in a woman's voice, just as they usually were when they saw her. Her mother's voice was warmer than usual when she answered. "Maryse, it's wonderful to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same."

The icy tone in her voice said all that Clary needed to know. This would be just like all the rest of them; the stares, the harsh words, and the restless nights. "Maryse, please—"

"You shouldn't have come, Jocelyn, if he finds you here you will not only endanger yourself but everyone who also lives under this roof."

"What happened to taking in a Shadowhunter no matter the situation?" Her mother's voice was filled with cruel sarcasm matching Maryse's cold tone.

"This is not a situation; this is impending destruction. This is signing a death wish." Maryse answered in an incredulous tone.

"I thought out of everyone you would understand—"

"I understand perfectly what he has done. I think you forget, Jocelyn, I was also present for The Circle. I remember his false promises and underhanded schemes. I remember feeling as if I was a part of something bigger than whatever it truly was." Clary knew all about The Circle, the destruction and heartache it caused, but she said nothing as Luke squeezed her unconsciously tighter as if the demons of his past were coming for them and he was trying to protect her. But he couldn't, she knew that.

"This has nothing to do with you, Clary." Luke whispered against her hair but she couldn't help but feel guilty. He was tearing the world apart looking for her wasn't he? To use her for his own selfish gain.

"So, you would turn us away. We, who were your friends, your allies—" Clary could hear the desperation in her mother's voice but knew the finality of it all. They could not stay, they would have to leave. Yet again; another city, another place to call "home".

"I have no choice!" The woman yelled her voice filled with heartache and remorse. "Do you really think I want to do this? To simply turn my back on the woman who has never turned her back on me?" She sighed and there was a moment where no one spoke. "But you're asking me to endanger my family, Jocelyn. That's something I simply cannot do. You faced a similar decision once and you chose your daughter."

"Were we not family once?"

"You have to let them stay." Instead of the female voice from before it was a husky, deep voice that replied cutting off anything Maryse had to say. It sounded pleasant to the ears like velvet or cream.

Clary heard the woman sigh again; she could practically see the fingers that clenched the bridge of her nose. "Jace, please—"

"He's right, mom. You can't do that, not even for us." Another voice chimed in, this of much higher pitch but still as sultry as the first.

"You don't understand—"

"Never leave a man behind. That's what the mundanes say, isn't it? We're supposed to be stronger than them right? We are all Shadowhunters that makes us all family." The higher voice continued, it sounded like a girl but if she were young or not Clary had no clue.

"Besides, we're not untrained. I can take care of myself, in fact, let Valentine come. I'll take my blade and run it straight-through the bastard's heart."

"Now that is enough, Jace Christopher Lightwood, not another word!" The threat was clear and the authority from that one sentence had Clary frozen, her body automatically responding to the command. It was followed by silence and another guilty sigh. "As much as I wish it weren't true, the children are correct," Clary heard what sounded to be a snort but couldn't be sure. "I cannot simply turn you away although I truly wish to. You may stay, Jocelyn, but be warned; at the first sighting of Valentine you must immediately leave. He mustn't know you were here at all."

"Of course."

Clary didn't want to move as Luke pushed her forward, she wanted to stay wrapped in his arms; it was safe there with his warmth and affection surrounding her like a hug. But she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing how much she hurt and loathed herself daily. She wouldn't let them see her weakness as she pulled out of Luke's arms and straightened out her black gear, which she had been forced to wear as a precautionary, and tried to walk with the strong form her mother always did.

She stopped in the doorway and looked back at Luke, who was staring at her with a peculiar look on his face. Almost like pride, though she had no idea why she would deserve it.

She nodded her head for him to follow as he flashed a grin at her and walked into the room behind her. Before her seated behind an official looking and nicely crafted maple desk was a tall, delicate-looking woman. Her black glossy hair was piled upon her head severely making her features look more dramatic. She was absolutely beautiful, even the scowl that seemed permanently placed on her face. She was intimidating, a woman of high stature like her mother; she had an air about her much like Clary's own mother and it almost made her feel a little more at home though it should have made her feel the opposite.

Seated perfectly in one of the lush chairs next to the desk was a young girl about Clary's age. Much like Clary she was the splitting image of her mother though less fragile looking. She looked sturdier and her eyes were a deep brown; not the piercing blue her mother had been blessed with. They regarded her with disinterest as if she were nothing special. Nothing of the usual detest she was use to, that always made her feel more comfortable. There was a boy perched beside her, more like a shadow; he had been blessed with the eyes of his mother as the deep blue oases prodded into her as if trying to unlock her mind. She could only make out one eye since the other was blocked by a chunk of lustrous black hair; as dark as ink. They must have been siblings.

They were the exact opposite of the boy that was staring deeply into her soul, the one with the glowing eyes of treasure. He was everything Shadowhunter's were supposed to resemble; purity, light, propriety. He held himself with a certain amount of honor. Not to mention, he was absolutely stunning. Although it seemed that there was something Clary found more enticing within his radiant irises; there was a certain vulnerability he held about him. As if he were bound to break at any moment and no one was allowed to see it. It was something she felt often. Out of all she saw that was what she found most beautiful about him.

"Maryse," Jocelyn said with a smile as she placed a hand lightly on Clary's clothed arm and pulled her further into the room; Luke, also, pushing her forward with a hand to her back. "I would like you to meet Clarissa. My daughter." She said the words with a bittersweet smile on her face; like she had always wanted them to meet but not under such pretenses. "Clary, this is my dear friend Maryse."

_How dear could she be, mother? You haven't spoken of her before this and she doesn't truly want to let us stay._

Clary approached the woman behind the sturdy desk; she had her hands clenched into fists on top of the cherry wood as if she wasn't sure she was making the proper decision. She stuck her hand out in front of the intimating woman waiting for her to turn it away; this was Clary's own test. Would she slap it away from her like some did? Would she squeeze so tightly that it would all but break her knuckles? Would she barely touch her as if scared some sort of demonic disease would spread to her? Like Valentine's blood could infect her by merely touching Clary.

As if sensing the silent test Maryse studied Clary closely, her blue eyes seemed to grab everything that was floating freely around in her mind. Clary's face remained straight as Maryse stood from her seat and took her hand. Like two business partners, it was short but nice.

Most of all, it was normal.

Clary couldn't help the small smile that took over her face as Maryse returned it with one of her own taking Clary completely by surprise. "It's nice to finally meet you, Clarissa."

"Please," She answered before she could stop herself. "Call me Clary." She had never gotten the chance to say the words before; no one had ever called her just Clarissa before. They only used to call her "Valentine's daughter". She tripped over the words slightly trying to get the entire sentence out of her mouth.

Maryse seemed to sense her excitement since she nodded with a warmer smile than before. "Clary it is then." She gestured outward with her hand to the lounging teens. "This is my daughter, Isabelle." The dark haired girl raised her hand in a half-assed hello but Clary didn't mind in the least. She was ecstatic that Isabelle had waved at all. "And my two sons, Alec and Jace."

"I would be Jace," The blonde one spoke up as he pushed off of the fireplace mantel he was leaning against and gestured his hand out to the young man beside Isabelle. "And that would be Alec. You couldn't possibly mix us up. I'm the attractive one." He finished with a smirk that had Maryse sighing in exasperation, Luke letting out a laugh and causing the Alec boy to roll his eyes.

Clary grinned and let out a small giggle, something she hasn't done in a long time. Maryse just shook her head and turned back to her. "You can ignore Jace or at least try to—"

"Why would she want to ignore me? I'm dastardly charming."

"We all do." She finished as if he had never spoken. "There are a few more children here," Clary whipped her head around as Jace let out another snort which again Maryse ignored. "They should be in the training room if you want to meet them."

Clary didn't particularly want to meet anymore people; she had been silently hoping this was all of them because they seemed to genuinely accept her. Or at least not care who took part in giving her life. She really didn't want to test her luck, these people might tolerate her but others may detest her like they usually did. She didn't know if she could take another hateful glance, she might just shatter completely.

"Or Church can take you to your room if you'd rather get settled in?" Maryse said as if sensing Clary's distress, and gestured to the cat that sat licking it's paws.

Clary eagerly nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Maryse nodded knowingly before turning to her mother. "I assume Lucian and yourself would be sharing a room?"

Jocelyn blinked and, for the first time in a long time, Clary watched her mother become flustered. "Maryse, why would you—he and I—"

Lucian simply let out a laugh as he stepped around Clary to put an arm around Jocelyn's shoulders. Her mother's cheeks tinted a soft pink as she swallowed. "I've missed your bluntness, Maryse. It really is good to see you again."

Maryse melted some of the ice from her face like she had done earlier with Clary and softly smiled. "Yes, old friend, it is; though I wish it were under different circumstances."

"Yes," Lucian said with a firm nod. "As do I."

As he spoke the last words, his eyes fell immediately back to Clary as if he couldn't bear the thought of what her father was to do when he caught her. Something Clary herself rarely thought about.

But she couldn't seem to escape it in her nightmares.

* * *

Clary let her eyes creak open like a rusty, unused door. Sleep crusted around her eyes, gluing them shut and she made a disgusted sound as she smashed her fists into her eye lids rubbing the sleep away and blinking again. Her hair, which had been earlier tied back in a ponytail, had fallen out and was knotted and tangled around her head. She felt somewhat energized as she stretched and sat up right in the plush bed that she laid in; she had needed a nice rest after she had unpacked and become acquainted with her room.

It was small like all the other ones; she had a small bathroom and a dresser and closet that held all her clothes. The small twin bed was big for her small frame and dressed in plain bed sheets, the walls were white and bare. It was the same as all the other rooms she had stayed in and yet this one seemed more permanent. It seemed more concrete.

She cringed when caught a whiff of herself, she smelt like a truck driver and felt like one as she pulled herself up and dragged herself to the adjourning bathroom. Stripping the grimy clothes off her back, she stepped into the pulsing hot shower letting the steam fill the small room. Washing quickly she dressed just as fast before running a brush quickly through her red curling hair and stepping cautiously out of the room.

She took a breath as her bare feet padded down the hallway. She didn't know where she was going but she figured she would stumble across someone eventually; whether it was one of the faceless kids Maryse had talked about or her children.

Clary hadn't really taken the time to appreciate the home when she had first arrived. The furniture in each room was in dark chestnut wood and blacks, making it elegant and cool. No family portraits hung on any room's walls or pictures; it was very impersonal and cold. Except on Maryse's desk, she had seen pictures there.

A soft sound lifted through the air making the home seem less off-putting. Like the soft and harmonious community of chimes. It was lovely music that Clary couldn't seem to help herself but to follow. She walked slowly and quietly so not to make the player stop. It was a sad song with the combination of light keys and low keys, a melodious rhythm of harmony and sadness that pulled her in.

Clary peaked through the open door and let her eyes take in the beauty before her. The golden boy she had met before sat at a large black colored piano, his fingers moving effortlessly along the ivory keys, his head bobbing with every note that he stroked. His eyes were closed and the light from the crystal chandelier reflected off his hair in shining strands. He would have looked perfectly content if not for the music that was pouring through his soul and out his fingertips. He may have looked fine, happy even, she knew he was anything but as the song increased in tempo and slowed to a sullen chime.

That was the moment Clary knew there was more to Jace Lightwood than there appeared. She felt herself connect with him as his song slowed before falling silent with a soft bittersweet chime.

She wanted to tell him he played beautifully. That she had never heard such a sad, sweet song but she couldn't get her feet to move. She couldn't do anything but lean back against the wall outside the door and roll her head back as Jace started another song, just as melancholy and poignant as the first, and shut her eyes and soak it in.

* * *

She continued to listen to him play the rest of the following week; she would sit outside the room as he played every day, at the same time. She observed that he only played when no one was around, that he didn't let his vulnerability slip until late in the night when everyone else was fast asleep in their beds. She felt guilty for listening in but she could seem to help herself. She _had _to hear him play; it gave her a sense of peace she had never known before. It completed her in a way no one ever had.

The weeks seemed to go by quickly; almost so quickly she had no idea a month had passed until her mother had walked into her assigned room and announced that the smell of summer was in the air. How had it all gone by? Where had it gone?

* * *

This was all very new to Clary. She felt like a new born doe just standing for the first time, everything seemed wrong and wobbly. She didn't know exactly what to say or how to say it so she mostly kept quiet and to herself. She was more comfortable doing what she was good at; besides friends had never been her thing. She had one best friend and that was about it. She talked mostly to Maryse and the other adults but wouldn't dare approach the children. It was more out of instinct than necessity; she had been condition after so many long and grueling years of pain and emotional torment. It was second nature now to shy away from them; she found she could barely keep a conversation with any of the adults for long either; except for her mother and Luke, of course.

She had met the other students of the Institute the week before last –several weeks having gone by since her arrival at the New York Institute— and they had seemed wary of her at best but not disgusted. Except for Cleo, of course, but Clary would get back to her.

They had stood huddled in the training room when Maryse had shuffled Clary in, having taken the young girl under her wing, and right into the middle of the hungry lion's den. There were three more kids Clary had never seen before. The group's eyes felt as sharp as knives as they regarded her with curiosity.

_"Kids," Maryse said with a cool voice Clary had come to grow used to. "This is Clarissa—"_

_"We know who she is." A tall, lengthy girl snarled with her arms crossed over her busty chest. Her artificially dyed blue hair was straight and hung just above her shoulders; it swirled around her head as clear and rich as a deep Caribbean sea. Her pouty lips with turned down in a frown and her perk nose was flared with misplaced rage. This was the reaction Clary had expected and didn't feel the least bit of satisfaction in receiving._

_"Yep," Another voice spoke up as Isabelle Lightwood came into view. She had one elegantly painted hand on her perfectly-formed figure as she regarded the exotic blue-haired girl with undisguised dislike. "She's only one of the most badass Shadowhunter's there is." She strutted up to her, because Isabelle couldn't just simply walk, causing her hair to swing down her back like dripping ink. _

_"Except for me, of course." A deep voice spoke from above her head and Clary had to crane her neck to see Jace perched on one of the practiced bars set high up toward the curved ceiling of the training room. He smirked down at her with a devilish gleam in his eye and she silently wondered if he knew she listened to him play late at night. Something told her he did._

_Isabelle rolled her eyes but gave no other indication that she heard him when she stood in front of Clary. "Clarissa, right?"_

_Clary swallowed her tongue or, at least, she must have because not a single word would come out of her mouth. Was she really such a badass if she couldn't even say a few words to some teenage Shadowhunter's?_

_"Actually," Jace pushed off the top bar and Clary almost let out a cry in horror. It was too high to jump from; it was one of the training bars they used for practicing flips, which usually involved being strapped to a sturdy harness to the ceiling. She watched with wide eyes as Jace fell, her body frozen with fright, and watched in disbelief as he landed graceful into a crouch before standing and walking forward, the crowd parting in awe around him giving him a straight path to the three women. "She prefers Clary."_

_She did, she remembered telling Maryse that exact thing. Isabelle was in the room then too, though it didn't seem that she remembered. So why had he? In fact, shouldn't the roles have been switched; Isabelle being the one to remember while Jace would forget?_

_Isabelle raised a dark perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, unaffected by the show unlike Clary and everyone else. Clary found herself unconsciously rubbing her own eyebrows. _

_How had he not gotten hurt? That kind of fall should have broken his ankle, at least, and yet he walked with no limp, no pained expression. Why wasn't Isabelle surprised in the slightest at this? Clary certainly was._

_"Is that true?" All Clary did was nod a reply as both Lightwood siblings openly studied her; Jace's eyes much more unsettling than Isabelle's. There was something about the way he looked at her that suggested he knew what she was thinking and about the secrets she kept locked away. _

_"Do you even talk?" The foul blue-haired girl said as she regarded Clary with more disgust than before. Her features were certainly striking as she raised an eyebrow at Clary, the stud in her nose gleaming in the light overhead. She had an air about her that Clary wished she had; some of it was mystery and a sense of danger, all wrapped up in a very sexy package._

_But Clary wasn't a mystery, everyone knew who she was._

_Valentine's daughter._

_And she certainly wasn't sexy, her legs were too short and her chest too flat to be beautiful but she was certainly cute. But that isn't what brought boys to you, being cute, that was all sex appeal. Clary had accepted she was inevitably going to die alone a long time again, taking the Morgenstern line with her. But it had to be better this way, less evil in the world that was sure. _

_She was taken by surprise when Isabelle turned sharply, her long hair smacking Clary and Jace in the face, her gaze narrowing on the blue haired fiend; her brown eyes flashing with mirth. Jace coughed and made a soft gagging sound as Isabelle's hair fell away from his mouth; he made a face at Clary who almost giggled in response. "She probably just doesn't want to waste her breath on you, Cleo. And frankly, I can't blame her. Talking to you has about the same effect as talking to a wooden stump; it's brainless, pointless and is a pathetic waste of half your life."_

"_Isabelle!" Maryse said in a scolding voice only able to be made by a disappointed mother as Jace and the others threw their heads back and laughed._

That was the first time she had met Cleo and Max (Isabelle, Jace and Alec's little brother).

That was the first instant that Clary knew she liked Isabelle Lightwood.

That was, also, the first moment that someone had ever stuck up for her.

* * *

Clary looked around her room slowly; this was her refuge, her place to go when the outside world got debauched. She would come to her room and surround herself with the smell of paint and fresh pencil shavings or the sharp flavor of ink on her paper. It was the only place where she found herself at completely at peace with the world; when her hand was effortlessly moving over the canvas and morphing scattered lines and darkened shadows into beings and art.

So why did it suddenly feel like a prison? Like it was trapping her, the walls around her seemed smaller as if they were closing in around her. When had the outside become more peaceful than the sanctuary she had built for herself?

When she heard Jace play the piano, she realized, and when Isabelle had stuck up for her. When Alec had knocked on her door and offered a plate of cookies he had ordered for her at Taki's; when Max had bounded into her room, his glasses askew and his black hair mopped around his head like a rag doll, his hand waving the new manga book he had gotten from Pizza Planet exclaiming that he had to take her there sometime.

When she started not to call the Lightwood's strangers anymore; when they went from being acquaintances to being friends.

Before she could possibly talk herself out of it and before the room closed in around her head, she opened the door and stepped out. She walked uncertainly down the dark and damp halls of the Institute following the sounds of chattering voices that floated from the dining area. Clary always ate in her room, it was safer that way; it was easier that way. She had always been fine with that, she _had liked _being alone.

The operative words being "had liked".

Now, she found she longing to be sitting around that long rectangular table, talking amiably about the day and such. She saw a dark haired, burly man she knew to be Robert (Isabelle, Alec, Jace, and Max's father and Cleo's uncle) sitting at the head; Maryse sitting directly opposite from him. Luke sat beside Robert as both men discussed something in loud voices that boomed throughout the room; Jocelyn sat next to Maryse as both women chatted happily and freely. Isabelle was making a face at Alec, who smiled back smugly. Jace let out a laugh that had his head thrusted backwards as Max jumped up and down in his seat, excited about something Clary would have loved to know about. Cleo sat directly across from Jace, her eyes following his every movement.

Something like jealousy and disgust—they were family after all, why were they flirting?—spiked up inside her as Jace looked up and gave Cleo his trademark smirk before flashing a wink her direction, to which she bit her lip and got a devilish gleam in her eye as they leaned closer to talk to each other in hushed tones across the table. It was that same emotion that pushed her into the open archway that led to the dining room. The talking creased almost instantly as everyone looked at her with wide eyes.

"Clary? Is something wrong, sweetheart?" Jocelyn said as she stood from her seat to walk toward her daughter, Luke doing the same. The shaking of Clary's head stopped them as she looked at everyone except Jace and Cleo earnestly.

"No," She shrugged as she continued in a low voice. "I'm just hungry. Do you think I could join you?"

Her mother blinked for a moment as if taken by surprise by the request. Clary couldn't blame her really, after 5 years of only eating in her room this was a big step and a major bombshell. A large smile broke out on her face as she clapped her hands together. "Of course!"

Maryse smiled kindly. "There's always room for you, Clary."

She smiled back at the elder woman as she made her way to the open chair next to Isabelle and directly across from her mother.

"Clary!" She turned her head and smiled sweetly as Max jumped up and down in his seat, his little arms waving in the air and his glasses getting jostled around on his head. "Clary! There's a spot across from me! Sit by me!"

She grinned as she took the seat between Alec and Cleo, who huffed and curled her lip up at Clary before scooting farther away from her, which didn't do well for Clary's self-esteem. It felt nice to be wanted, even if it was by a small 10 year old boy who only wanted to talk to her about manga.

"Well," Robert spoke up with an easy smile; his hair was an endearingly tangled mess like Alec and Max's as he gestured to his wife across the table. "Get this girl a plate, Maryse. We need to get some meat on her bones. I can almost see right through her!" He gave Clary an affectionate wink across the table, which she smiled at in return, before he turned back to Luke.

Alec smiled at her as he passed her a plate piled high with food. He must have seen the look of terror on her face because he let out a laugh and placed it delicately in front of her seat. "Don't worry. You don't have to eat it all." He shrugged as he took a large bite out of his mashed potatoes. "Besides, it's really good; my mom and Jocelyn made it. If Izzy had made it, then you'd have all rights to be terrified."

Isabelle let out a screech. "Hey! My cooking isn't that bad!" Alec didn't say anything else as he laughed full-heartedly, his hand clenching his shirt above his stomach, only to be cut off when a dinner roll impacted against his head. Clary had to put a hand over her mouth to keep the laugh from bubbling out.

He narrowed his eyes at his sister as she let out her own mocking laugh and in response to her cackle; Alec threw the dinner roll back at her.

"Alec and Isabelle Lightwood!" Maryse yelled from her seat. "Stop that right now."

"He started it." Isabelle started to say as Alec pointed his finger at her.

"She started it."

"Me?" Both siblings exclaimed as they pointed at themselves. "It was you!" They then pointed their fingers at each other, both finishing together as Clary let out a roaring laugh, Max followed along after her. She was clenching the sides of the table to keep herself from rocking as she tossed her head back. She watched both teens give her an astonished look that only made her laugh harder and soon everyone was laughing.

Clary felt whole, like she was a part of a family. She didn't know how she truly felt about that. She had never truly paid attention to things like this before at her old Institutes. She hadn't been paying attention to anything at her old ones really.

But if she had been paying attention to this Institute, as closely as she thought she was, she would have noticed that Jace hadn't taken his eyes off her since she had walked in.

* * *

"Okay focus, Isabelle."

"I am focusing."

"Well, you're not focusing very hard."

"I am_ focusing_ hard enough."

"If you were focusing hard enough you would have hit the target by now."

Isabelle let out a loud groan as she threw down one of knives in her hand; it implanted itself inches away from Jace's foot. "Why don't you stand over there?" She said motioning to the large dummy at the far end of the room. "I'm sure all I need is a little motivation."

Jace's trademark grin inched across his face as he uncrossed his arms and let his body form the universal sign of surrender. "Okay, okay. Maybe, that's enough for today."

"No, I can do it."

"Its fine—"

"No really," Isabelle smirked as Jace's eyes widened. "I insist."

"Now, Izzy, wait a minute—"

She smiled as she raised her dagger, her eyes glowing with playfulness as Jace smiled at her. "Let's see how fast you can move, Angel Boy."

Jace scowled as Isabelle bent and picked up her discarded dagger from before, Clary watched as Isabelle struggled a moment to lift it before it popped right out of where it sat in the wood. She twirled it delicately in her hands as Jace smirked and spread his legs out in a ready stance.

Clary watched wide eyed as Isabelle flung a dagger right at her brother, who flipped quickly out of the way. She had never seen anyone move so fast in her life as Isabelle and Jace laughed and continued with their game.

Clary saw the tragedy before it struck.

Max, in his excitement to play with the big kids, had run right into the middle of the large training area. Isabelle had already let the dagger go as she let out scream and reached out as if to stop it. Jace was too far behind Max to reach him in time no matter how fast he was. Clary felt the burn on her arm as her hand traced a rune, far too quick to be drawn correctly and shot out into the training room with the speed as fast as a vampire. She must have black out part of the way because one moment she was across the room and the next her hand shot out and grasp the hilt of the dagger, jolting her arm from the force of the throw and stopping the blade from approaching Max.

The room was silent as Clary took in deep breaths before Isabelle ran toward her brother. "Max!" The little boy stared up at Clary in wonder as Isabelle fussed over him, touching his cheeks and knocking his glasses right off his face.

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry, Max." Isabelle pulled him close and squeezed him; the little boy was squirming in her arms trying his best to get away. "I'm so so sorry."

"Okay," Max said pushing her away. "I get it. You're gonna give me cooties!"

She smiled before turning to Clary, her brown eyes were watering and her face was the aptitude of gratitude. Before Clary even knew what was happening Isabelle had her arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her to her. She smelt like coconuts and other things tropical and Clary found she liked the scent; she found it calming as she wrapped her arms around Isabelle's toned figure.

"Thank you." Isabelle whispered as Clary nodded.

"It was no problem, Isabelle."

Isabelle looked up at her with a teary eyed smile, she must have truly been afraid because Isabelle never showed any vulnerability. Clary felt honored she was letting her see it now. "Call me Izzy. All my family does."

Clary felt a large smile take up her entire face. Did that mean she counted as family? Was she really apart of them now? "Okay." She said with a nod.

"How did you do that?" Max exclaimed as he latched onto her leg, his glasses were back on his nose and didn't look broken in the least, yet they tipped on the edge of his nose. "One minute you were there and then the next you were here! You went so fast!"

Clary giggled as the weight Max was applying on her leg made her stumble. "I don't know. I just kind of acted." She smiled as she ran a hand through Max's hair, which he only allowed because he was staring up at her in an astonished gaze. "I saw you and then I ran."

"Whoa." Max said as if she had just explained something deep and complex.

"Jeez, Max, give the girl some space to breath."

Clary turned quickly to the voice that was far to close at her back and stumbled right into Jace. Max's hold hadn't lessened and she couldn't move her leg as she tipped forward and fell right into Jace's arms, which caught her effortlessly. His chest was to her face as she watched a bead of sweat fall down the path to his exercise pants; she envied that sweat drop as it worked its way down Jace's rock hard core.

"Sorry." She breathed as Max leaped from her leg and she stood up straight, Jace's arms were still around her as He took a step closer, invading her personal space bubble completely.

"You know I could have handled it."

Clary actually blinked at what he said not entirely believing it. "Excuse me?"

"I could have helped Max; I didn't need your help, Valentine's daughter."

"Yeah?" Clary said, trying to hide the hole he had ripped in her heart, with her hands on her hips, she felt the rage she kept down bubbling to the surface. "Because where I was standing it seemed like a pretty fat chance of that happening." She was sick of this, she thought he was different but he was just like the rest.

Valentine's daughter.

She would show him.

"Jace!" Izzy spoke in astonishment as Jace wiped his hands down the sides of his pants like touching her could give him a disease.

"Then obviously you were standing in the wrong place." Jace said with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face. She didn't quite know if she wanted to smack him or kiss him.

Clary narrowed her eyes. "For the love of the Angel, Jace, just thank her and stop trying to save your fragile ego." Izzy said in a harsh voice but Jace didn't spare her a glance as he stared hard at Clary as if daring her; pushing her.

"Okay," Clary said her arms crossed over her chest. "You and me. Hand-to-hand combat."

"Oh, I would love to show you how it's done." Jace said as he brought his face closer to Clary's.

She scrunched up her nose as she stood on her tip toes, so not to let him think his size could intimidate her. "Show me what? How to lose?" She said her own smirk on her face.

Jace tossed his head back and laughed, the noise was a wondrous sound of velvet and honey. It was soaking into her veins like a drug as he turned his golden gaze back to her; it sparked with excitement as if he had wanted to fight her all along. She blinked confused for a moment; was he just baiting her to fight her?

"We'll see about that. In fact," Jace said as he flipped over her and land on the blue mat in the center of the room with as much grace as an angel. Clary felt her stomach drop slightly in excited fear; maybe she would finally meet her match. "Why don't we make this a little interesting?"

She raised her eyebrows to her hairline as her eyes regarded him with uncertainty. "Like how interesting?"

"A little bet, is all." Jace said nonchalantly as he inspected his fingernails, his eyes flashed up at hers as he threw her that infuriating smirk again.

"Oh I have to see this." Alec said from across the room as he walked into the training area, Max stood next to him fidgeting around like he wanted to join the fight too. Isabelle glared at her golden brother as he stared only at Clary.

"You got this, Clary. Teach this, egoistic bastard, a lesson or two." She smirked as she finally got Jace's attention as he placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"Isabelle, it that really how you feel about me?" Jace said with a smile as she smashed her lips together as if to keep her own smile off her face as she threw him the bird.

Clary smiled to herself as Isabelle winked at her; she felt a rush of warmth go through her as Max began to jump up and down. "Go Clary!"

Jace let his mouth fall open. "What is this? My own family rooting against me!" He said in outrage as he looked at them all before settling on Alec. "Tell me, at least, my parabati is on my side."

Alec shrugged. "I like to remain neutral until someone wins."

Clary laughed as she turned her attention to Alec, who looked a little taken back by her laughter. She realized suddenly that he hadn't been joking at all. Of course, Alec rarely did joke. "Then your choice should be easy. You can start rooting for me now just to soften the inevitable." She said as she smirked at Jace, who stared at her with darken eyes.

His hair hung in damp curls around his head and his mouth parted in excitement as his gaze fell over her. Clary suddenly felt uncomfortable in her tight yoga pants and sport bra; but she wouldn't let him psyche her out. She knew his play.

Alec let out a laugh as he nodded his head at Jace. "I don't know about this one, Jace. You might just meet your match."

Jace's eyes were hot on Clary's body as he studied her; she tried to stop herself from fidgeting under her watchful gaze and hold her stance. "I know." It was all he said before he leaned his body back as if completely at ease and smirked at her. "Now about our bet—"

"Bet?"

Jace shrugged. "Yeah, we are making this interesting, aren't we?" He said his teeth peaking through his lips as he pulled half his mouth up in a grin. "Are you afraid of losing?"

Clary laughed again, though it was forced as she shook her head. "Afraid of losing? To you?" She laughed again as Jace raised an eyebrow. "Not a chance."

"Well, alright then." Jace smirked as he walked toward her on the mat, Clary matching each step he made. "If I win you have to do one thing of my choosing, no matter the request."

Clary stared hard into Jace eyes as he held her gaze steadily. His gaze never moved away from hers and she felt the power behind it; the fire that burn behind those golden iris's. She would regret taking this bet if he won, she was sure. But if he didn't win, she had the potential to make him do anything. It gave her a lot of power and she enjoyed it; the thought of Jace Lightwood on his knees before her was all together too appealing to pass up.

"Deal and the same goes for me when I win."

"If." Jace smirked at her and grabbed hold of the hand she outstretched toward him. "You mean, _if _you win."

Clary smiled devilishly up at him and brought her face closer to him, pulling him toward her with a sharp tug with the hand she held in hers. His eyes widened as they stood chest to chest; Clary felt the thrill building in her abdomen being this close to him. Their chests were touching with each breath and their face's breathing puffs of air against each other's cheeks. She had never been so bold before; not ever in her life but there was something about the Lightwood's that made her feel free.

"No, I mean when."

With that she dropped his hand and spun around walking back to her place at the edge of the mat. She locked eyes with Cleo, who stood off to the side her eyes staring daggers into Clary as she crossed her arms over her chest, which was practically falling out of her sports bra and held that scowl on her face. Her blue hair was pile high on her head making her features sharper and causing her to look more like a model from a retro magazine than a Shadowhunter.

Clary crouched in her spot as Jace did the same, a small but manic smile on his lips like the idea of fighting her excited him more than the idea of sex with Cleo.

"Hey!" She said narrowing her eyes at Jace. "How do I know you'll keep your side of the bet?"

Jace rolled his eyes, his stupid smirk still on his face. "What kind of man do you take me for, Clary? When I say you have my word, you have it."

She stared at him another moment before she nodded and waited for him to question her honesty but he didn't as he continued to stare into her eyes.

Isabelle walked onto the mat and stepped between them breaking their trance, her hair flowed down her back as dark and soft as paint. "Okay, rules." She said holding up her hands. "No weapons, at all. Only hands and legs and the first person to get thrown from the mat loses, other than that there are no rules." She said beginning to step off the mat. "Oh and please try not to break any bones; I really don't want to have to get my steele. It's somewhere in my room—"

"It's lost forever then." Alec said as Max nodded beside him.

"Shut up!" Isabelle threw them a dark look that had both her brother's smiling. "And I really don't want to have to go find it."

Alec shook his head. "If any bones are broken, I have my steele; like a responsible Shadowhunter."

Isabelle spun around and took an intimidating step toward her brother. "Why you—"

"Isabelle!" Jace said with a smirk. "As much as I love hearing you and Alec bicker, and really I do, I would like to beat Clary and get my part in the bet now."

Clary threw her head back. "In your dreams, Lightwood."

"Dreams are for the meager; I'm more of a realist myself."

Cleo cupped her hands around her mouth. "C'mon, baby, show Morgenstern whose boss."

Jace smiled as Clary watched him closely. "With pleasure."

Jace gave her no indication that he would strike, he simply smiled and was flying forward. He really was quite fast but the rune on Clary's arm was still active and she managed to roll out of the way as his body fell forward to where she once was and rolled into a crotch. Clary took advantage of his turned back as she swung her leg up in an attempt to clip her heel into Jace's head. He spun, with the grace of a ballerina, and caught her foot with a smirk as he twisted it. Clary used the momentum to spin with her rotating limb, falling onto her stomach and rolling.

Jace's elbow slammed into the mat where her body had once been as she latched herself onto his back and hooked her arms around his neck, cutting of the supply of oxygen to his lungs. Before she could hook her legs around his torso, Jace bucked forward spending her flying over him and onto her back on the mat. Before she had time to regain the air that had been knocked out of her chest, Jace was on top of her. His legs locked like vices, straddling her waist, his hands latched on her arms and held them over her head as he brought his face close to hers. Sweat dropped from his hairline and down his face, which should have been disgusting but on him it was just sexy; his smirk seemed more powerful now as he ground down on her intimately. He seemed happy to have her in this predicament and in his arms without escape.

"Gotcha." He whispered against her face. Clary had to keep the shiver from rolling down her back as Jace's scent washed over her; a sweet mixture of mint and sandalwood and something raw, that reminded her of how much of a man he truly was.

"Not quite." Clary said as she arched her spine upwards and into him; Jace's eyes widened as he groaned.

"Clary," Jace said his voice wavering and shaking as she arched her back up again. "What are you—"

She swung her legs up and hooked them around his neck, pulling him off her with one tug. She rolled with the momentum and found herself seated on Jace's chest, to which he immediately threw her off. She smiled as Jace narrowed his eyes at her from the other side of the mat; she had arched her body to slide his strong thighs down her small figure so she could hook her ankles around him; something she had learned at her last Institute.

"Distractions are cheating." He said with a growl; his eyes darked with something Clary couldn't name.

She smiled in reply and shook her head. "I don't believe that was stated in the rules beforehand."

Jace growled again as he slowly stalked her this time, seeing that taking her head on wasn't going to work like it usually did. Clary was happy that she wasn't as easy to fight off as Jace had thought she would be. She moved in the circle with him as the danced around each other; throwing punches and hits before jumping back. They were simply playing a game now; they both knew it. Jace had a delight in his eyes Clary had never seen before as he swung his leg high aiming for her chest. She ducked easily and threw a punch toward his face, which Jace easily caught.

"Not the face." He said teasingly. "It's my strongest selling point, you know."

Clary laughed as she jumped over the well placed swipe of Jace's legs as he tried to take out her own. "Oh, I do know. I mean, it couldn't be your personality." She smirked as he caught her wrist and brought her body close to his own. "That's your weakest selling point."

She pivoted her body as she stepped on his foot and brought her hand up hard into his chin making his head snap up; he stumbled back a few steps from her before shaking his head and running his hand over his jaw. He narrowed his gaze on her in concentration. "Enough games."

"Gladly."

Jace ran toward her as she prepared her body in a defensive stance but he took her by surprise as he flipped over her and landed swiftly behind, wrapping one lean, taut arm around her neck while the other was grasping her waist hard to his body. They slide against each other from the sweat on his hard chest and all over her back.

He had her trapped as she tried to use his weight against him; the thing she had observed about Jace was that he knew all the proper defensive methods and offensive methods to lock or unlock an opponent. She could feel her lungs screaming over for oxygen as she struggled; trying to clear the panic from her mind.

Thinking logically she knew her only strength was to take him by surprise, which is exactly what she did as she pushed back against him with all her weight pretending to try to slam her heel down on his toes; he moved his foot but not his head as she rammed her own against his nose.

The following crack was as loud as a gun shot throughout the silent room as Jace stumbled back and Clary fell to her knees taking in the oxygen she lacked, her throat would no doubt have bruises from the strength of his hold as Jace held his own face tenderly. When he took his hand away from his face she saw the blood that pooled like rivers down his mouth, his once perfect nose was crooked and starting to bruise.

Cleo sucked in a hard breath as she began to run forward. "Jace, baby, your nose—"

She stopped in her tracks wide-eyed however when Jace held up a hand to her; his eyes focused on Clary, who was staring back at him her own chest heaving. "I'm fine."

"But Jace, baby—"

Jace didn't give her a sideways look at he focused on Clary as if she was the only person around. "I said I'm fine, Cleo." He turned then and smirked. "And I'm most definitely _not _your baby." Clary felt bad for Cleo as the girl stumbled back and away from the mat as if her heart was breaking at the sight of Jace being hurt and was shattering at the words he said to her. She watched as Cleo shut her eyes in pain before locking on Clary's and hardened into something feral.

"Well, are you giving up Morgenstern?"

Clary turned back to Jace, who had gotten back into his stance. She shook her head as more blood slipped down his face and painted the blue mat in small drops. "You need to, at least, fix your nose, Jace. It has to be broken."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you were a demon I was fighting, do you think it'd give me a moment to myself to tend to my wounds?" Clary bit her lip to keep the smile from her lips as she shook her head. Those were the words from a true Shadowhunter. "Exactly. So, are you giving up?"

"Not a chance."

Jace smiled his whole face lighting up with it. Clary had no idea how he managed to still look beautiful with gore all over his face. "That's what I thought."

He was flying toward her again but Clary was ready as she leaped up and reached for one of the beams that hung suspended from the ceiling and lifted herself up. Jace stared up at her for only a moment before reaching for the beam she stood on and pulling himself up on it too. The beam was long and took up most of the elongated ceiling; it was a training beam for the beginner's that were learning their flips. Jace balanced easily on the beam as Clary swayed slightly.

He smiled as he kicked out at her feet, which she leaped over. The action had her arms pin wheeling as she tried to regain her balance. Jace took advantage of her instability as he kicked out at her chest, which had her stumbling backwards. He was letting himself get cocky, that was his first mistake, as he came toward her; his fancy footwork too hard to match. He kicked at her chest again but Clary was ready with time as she caught his foot just as he had done earlier to her and twisted it. He rolled with his twisting limb off the beam and toward the ground below. Clary, knowing she only had a small window of opportunity, grabbed the beam with her hands and pushed her body forward, her feet pointed straight out as Jace landed on the balls of his feet before getting knocked forward by Clary's momentum. He flew off the mat and onto the polished wooden floor with a skidding noise.

Everyone waited wide eyed as Jace sat up and shook his head, his mop of hair moving with him and making blood and sweat droplets spray across the clean wood. They waited still as Jace locked eyes with Clary, who crouched in the middle of the mat heaving, before he stood and came toward her. She readied herself for the harsh words and insults that would no doubt spray from Jace's mouth. Their game was done and he had lost; there was no way he would be able to live it down.

But as always Jace never did what she expected. He stopped in front of her and held his hand out in an offering of sportsmanship. She stared at it for a moment wondering if she should take it or not before her heart won over her head.

"That was the best sparring I've ever experienced." He smiled, his nose still bleeding and his hand wet with the stuff as he held her palm with him. "I accept defeat graciously until next time, of course."

Clary smiled as Max let out a yell in the background. "You? Accepting defeat? Unlikely."

Jace smiled his perfect grin as he brushed the wet curls from his face; Clary could feel her own hair sticking to the back of her neck and to her spine as she stared into his eyes. "You're absolutely right; I'm only saying this so that you'll never know that I went easy on you."

"Well, that's a relief." Clary replied with her own smile as Alec, Isabelle and Max rushed toward them. "Because I was going easy on you too."

Jace threw his head back and laughed before wincing as more blood rushed from his nose. Isabelle clucked as she pulled his arm harshly out from his side, Alec's steele at the ready in her hands. "Jace Wayland, what did I say about breaking bones? I said don't, didn't I? And look what you did anyway!"

"Me!" Jace exclaimed as he pointed at the smiling red-head. "She did it."

"And for another thing! Have you seen her neck? What were you trying to do? Kill her?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "I was trying to—"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Then why do you keep asking me!"

Max pulled on Clary's arm, bringing her gaze away from the bickering teens and down to him, as he looked earnestly into her eyes. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Clary smiled down at him as she ran a hand through his hair and righted his glasses on his nose. She felt a rush of warmth as Max looked up at her with his big brown eyes and the way Isabelle fussed over her wounds. She loved the way Alec laid a hand on her shoulder and leaned into her laugh as he recalled something from their fight earlier. For the first time ever, Clary felt like she belonged. And she absolutely loved the feeling.

The slamming of a door made the room silence as they took into account that one of them wasn't here. Cleo had left and Clary knew she was beyond pissed.

* * *

That same night, she sat at the outside of the large two door entry and listened to the sweet sound of music that left Jace's fingertips. And because today had not turned out at all like she planed, this life had not turned out at all as she planned really; she stood immediately and walked into the room where he played without giving her any time to stop herself.

"You play wonderfully." She said as she stepped fully into the room.

Jace spun on the black piano seat with nonchalance and effortless grace swinging one jean clad leg around to straddle the bench in sat on; his face seemed content like he had known she was there all along. If not for the rapid beat of his pulse on his neck and the alertness of his eyes she would have never thought she snuck up on him. "Are you stalking me now? Because I don't remember you being out there when I first entered the room."

She ignored the sarcasm in his voice, something she noticed Alec and Maryse did most often. "How long have you played?" She said motioning with her head toward the large, black instrument.

"Oh this old thing?" Jace said with a wave of his hand as if it was the easiest thing in the world; like everyone could play the way he did, like Mozart. She didn't know if he was actually being modest or if he was simply yanking her chain. "My parents taught me how to play when I was younger. My father said it was a sure way to attract women, though he obviously didn't account for my chiseled features."

Clary frowned as she stepped further into the room, this move for her was extremely daring. In truth she hadn't been this close to another teen her age in a very long time, at least not one so easy going. She was used to harsh words and bruises from tough sparring. While she had hated it, she also found it beneficial; all of those rough combat lessons at her other Institutes had made her tougher, stronger.

But there was something different about Jace, almost as if he shared something secret like she did. Like he saw the broken pieces that were scattered inside her and acknowledged that he was scarred too. "I didn't know Robert could play."

"He can't."

Clary blinked and frowned further as Jace searched her face as if trying to locate something he couldn't. "Maryse then?"

"Nope."

"I don't understand…"

Jace shrugged, turning back to face the piano and resuming what he had played before. His fingers flew effortlessly across the keys as if dancing a seductive waltz. The notes, again, were bittersweet and filled with sorrow as Clary stepped closer. "I'm adopted." It was all he said, his back tensing at the words; but Clary could've guessed this was the case when she had seen Robert earlier and noted he looked nothing like his other son; the one with the golden eyes and shining hair; with the face that had to have been chiseled by the angels. It, also, made more sense as to why Cleo and Jace flirted so much; they weren't related as she earlier had thought.

"Oh—"

The piano made a cringing noise as Jace swung around back to face her, his expression emotionless but his eyes screaming with a fiery blaze. His golden gaze churned with a fire she hasn't seen in him earlier. "Before you ask," He held up a hand as if stopping her from speaking but she had nothing to say. "Yes, they did die. Yes, I do miss them. And yes, they did grace me with magnificent, astonishing beauty and a wonderful wit." He finished with a cold smirk, his eyes daring her to pity him; daring her to say something that would step out of line.

Clary stared at him for a moment, not glaring or looking at him in bewilderment, just concentrating like she did when she wanted to paint something and get it just right. She gathered her thoughts before she shrugged her own shoulders. "Well, I'm the least entitled person to judge by parents."

Jace seemed to blink at her as if not sure what to say; like she hadn't said anything he thought she would say at all. "You know," He said it slowly as if not sure he wanted to say the words out loud. "You're not anything like I expected."

Clary smiled sadly lowering her eyes; she pulled the shirt she wore down before tugging at her black shorts. "Yeah? What did you expect?" Now she was daring him, to prove her right; that everyone saw her as evil. That everyone couldn't help but judge her based on the blood in her veins.

Valentine's daughter.

Jace frowned a moment before shifting a little on the benched seat. "I don't really know." Clary nodded her head not overly happy with the response but knowing it was not nearly as bad as it could've been. "But certainly not like you."

"Well, I've got to keep you on your toes somehow." Clary said with a forced smile but Jace gave her a genuine smirk as he patted the seat beside him.

"I can teach you to play." It was a statement, not a question.

"Can you?" Clary said teasingly as she found herself taking a step closer. "That's a mighty big challenge to accomplish." She had never teased anyone before; she found it excited her to be like this.

"No challenge is too big for the incredible, extraordinary, prodigy that is Jace Lightwood." He answered with a smile as he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to the seat next to him. She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach and the tingling that sparked up her arm at his touch.

She'd never felt anything like it before, like her stomach was turning itself inside out and her palms were sweating abnormally. She prayed he couldn't hear the sound her heart was making as it pounded against her chest. She wondered if she had eaten something back before or if all the hot water from her shower had gone to her head to make her feel this way because Jace seemed completely at ease as he closed his eyes and moved his fingers in tune with her heart. His crown of golden blonde hair gently moved with the wind of the opened window, brushing against his cheek softly like the caress of a lover.

It hit her like a ton of bricks, Jace was beautiful. Sure, she had noticed before but she hasn't really studied him until this moment. His hair was curled to perfection and tousled in the ultimate I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-am-just-this-sexy look. His jaw was strong and square, his lips too poetic to be on a boy. The top formed the perfect Cupid's bow sticking out just slightly over the bottom, which lay pink and plump upon his face as soft as rose petals. His nose was straight and his blonde eye lashes lush and thick, just the way all girls envied. He truly was gorgeous and, judging by his enlarged ego, he knew it too.

And yet there was something about him that made her wonder if he wished he was someone different too? To give up his beauty for his parent's back? To be less broken inside? He had a vulnerability that screamed out to her own.

"How are you going to learn if you're looking at my face and not my hands?"

Clary blushed furiously as she watched him open one eye and peak at her before winking and resuming his stance. She stared hard at his hands from that point on, not daring to even peak up at him and feeling foolish for getting caught observing him. By the time he finished his set, Clary felt her eyes tense from strain. She had been concentrating hard, evident in the ache that had settled behind her eyeballs, but she had no idea how he managed to play something so beautiful.

"Well? Can you do it now?"

Clary looked at him bewildered as Jace gave her a grin; she noticed that he had a chip on his tooth. Her heart began to pick up speed as she thought about how that one imperfection just made him that much more beautiful. This warrior was broken; he had shown the world that already.

"Are you kidding me?" She gave Jace another astonished look. "Of course not!"

He laughed wholeheartedly, throwing his head back and dropping his mouth open. She expected him not to make a sound but he did. The sound of velvet and sweet melody flowed from his mouth entrancing her immediately. No wonder he played so well, he was practically a song himself.

He shook his head before he shifted back on the bench seat. "Come here." He patted the spot he had made between his legs. She eyed it warily before looking back up at him. He didn't say another word, simply waited as if he knew if he prodded too much she would refuse straight out.

She moved slowly, trying her best not to get too close or touch him as she sat on the very edge of the seat, her thighs lightly brushing his knees. "Don't be ridiculous, Clary. How am I supposed to teach you if you're all the way down there?" He gripped her hips; his fingertips dug into the protruding bone and pulled her back, the sensation of his touch made her freeze making it easier for him to settle her between his legs, their thighs crushed against each other and his chest placed steadily against her back. She could feel every dip and contour of his chest through their clothes and she didn't overall hate the hard abs she felt pressed against her. This was the closest she had ever been to a boy.

Ever.

"Now place your hands above mine," His mouth was right next to her ear, his hot breath sent puffs of air caressing the back of her neck as he reached around her and placed his hands lightly on top of the keys. Clary watched him a moment before swallowing and placing her shaking hands on top of his praying he couldn't feel how sweaty they were. He could obviously hear her heart now, he was so close and it was going a mile a minute. "Perfect. It's just like dancing; I'll lead, you follow."

"I'm not the best at following, you know." She whispered and felt the shiver over take her at his breathy laugh against the back of her neck making her hair stand on end and erupting her skin in goose bumps.

"Humor me."

And just like that she was playing, her fingers dipped with his and glided across the ivory keys as his did. There was something so intimate about the way they played together, as if they were finishing their story, as if they completed each other.

One of Jace's golden curls brushed her cheek as she turned her head to look at him. He was so close she could have kissed him, if either of them moved even slightly their lips would brush. She watched as his head slightly bobbed, as if on its own accord, to the rhythm of the piano's melody. His golden eyes were closed and unseeing; but he was all she could focus on, holding her breath so he wouldn't know how close she was.

"You're not watching again."

She gasped when his words slightly brought his lips against hers. Jace's eyes shot open, she had no idea how he could tell she was watching him if his eyes weren't even open, and his hands stumbled over the keys making the piano choke and let out a cry. His fingers instantly slowed, Clary's slowing as well. She watched him with a heated a gaze as he did to her, making the air around her seem heavy and thick. She couldn't seem to get enough air to her lungs though her chest was brushing his with every intake of oxygen she took. Her heart was slowly climbing up her throat as she let him consume her.

"Sorry," She said moving back, she blinked and swallowed breaking whatever spell had fallen over her. "It's just that. . ." She trailed off a moment before slowly dropping her hands from atop his and moving his arm gently out of her way, absentmindedly taking note of how the muscles in his arms seemed to be tense under her hold, and stepping away from her. "Well. . ." She got up and took several steps backward, afraid of the emotions she was feeling and how her heart seemed to want to tug her back in the direction she had come; back into his arms. She let out a nervous laugh as she brushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. "You really aren't like anything I expected."

Jace, who had turned and was watching her with a predatory look in his eyes, let out a laugh at the comment. "Well, I've got to keep you on your toes somehow." She took note that she had said that to him, not 10 minutes earlier.

She felt the smile cross her face before she could stop it. "True." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'm going to head to bed." She said nodding innocently and motioning with her thumb to the open door behind her.

"Is that an invitation?"

She felt her face flush completely and her entire frame shake slightly, not because the thought of Jace in her bed scared her but because it felt so right and it only excited her racing pulse more. He stared at her another second as if giving her time to answer before he shook his head, his curls moving with him in a swift motion that had them shimmering in the light. "It was just a joke, Clary."

Something about the look on his face suggested otherwise as she smiled. "Thanks for the lesson. I'm sure I'll get better with time." She said it teasingly, knowing she would never get good at playing the piano the way he did.

"I've got all the time in the world."

Clary bit her lip as Jace's eyes stared into her; it was unsettling like he could see all of the secrets she kept hidden behind locked doors, like he held the key to her very existence. "Well, I'll catch you later then." She said smiling softly at him, stilling moving her feet backward toward the open door.

Jace smirked at her, his eyes darkening from the light butterscotch she was use to, to a dark and glowing topaz. His eyes seemed to search her face as he watched her; didn't he know what he was doing? Didn't he see he was unsettling her? Didn't he hear the unsteady beat of her heart? Feel the sweat on her palms? See the blood rushing to her cheeks?

"Not if I catch you first."

The comment startled Clary as much as the wall that met her back did. She didn't look back as she rushed out the door, listening to the sound of his light laughter follow her out.

* * *

Sleep would not come.

It just wouldn't.

She laid there for, she didn't know how long, listening to the sounds of the nightlife outside her window; the cars that rushed by and the fluttering of birds wings against the wind. She sat up knowing it was useless to lay there forever and wait for something that wasn't coming.

She stepped out her door quietly, shutting it behind her and tip toeing past her parents' room which was directly across from hers. She passed Jace's room just as silently and wondered if maybe she should knock on his door and see if he wanted to go with her to the training room. But his earlier comment was still on her mind.

"_Not if I catch you first."_

It should have seemed threatening but it wasn't. It made her body tingle with pleasure and anticipation; why he thought he had to chase her was another story. Didn't he know all he had to do was call and she would come? He knew he could do that to any other woman, he had Cleo practically wrapped around his little finger as well, so he had to know. Didn't he?

In the end, she didn't tempt fate as she walked to the kitchen instead of the training room, remembering all too well how they had both fought. Hard and steady, hot and heavy; the way the sweat had glistened on his torso and the drops fell with every dip in his muscled abdomen. The way his slick, defined muscles had felt rubbing against her body in an undeniable friction.

It would just be too overwhelming. So, she walked with hurried steps to the kitchen where she knew there had to be something sweet to satisfy her need for something sugary. She frowned after 10 minutes of searching had turned up blank. She knew Luke had to have a stash somewhere; he couldn't go more than a day without something sweet. All she really needed to do was find it.

Opening the large refrigerator and shuffling through the things inside. She stopped when she spotted a can of cherry pie filling in the back of the cold fridge. It wasn't supposed to be there Clary observed and she took the can from its spot hesitantly, checking the expiration date.

She frowned when she saw it was fairly new and shrugged before digging the can opener into the top and ripping it clean off. She ate a spoonful of the cold, gooey filling and moaned in bliss. The cherries inside the filling were plump as she popped them into her mouth; she wondered if someone was planning on using the filing for an actual pie as she continued to eat it.

She knew she should have gone back to her room, but the thought had slipped her mind as she jumped up onto the counter top and swung her legs; looking out the window at the moon. It was larger than normal, taking up most of the sky in its white smoldering blaze. It left an afterglow on everything in the kitchen and radiated warmth throughout the room. Clary absentmindedly wondered what that was called again; when the moon was larger than most of the sky and seemed really close. She could entirely put her finger on it but she remembered her mother saying it to her once.

It was going to just bug her until she remembered.

"What are you doing?"

Clary let out a yell as she jumped and almost dropped the large can of pie filling across the floor. She turned quickly as Jace sauntered into the room; the luminosity of the moon making him look like an avenging angel as he stepped into the light. His blonde curls were tousled around his head as if he had just woken up and his eyes seemed to be emitting their own sort of light as her body was set on fire from the look he was giving her.

"Nothing." Clary said around a large mouthful of the delicious filling, she blushed down at her shorts and camisole she wore. She felt naked though she knew Jace had seen her in less; it took all the will power she had not to focus on his bared chest and at his face (both of which were strong selling points).

He focused his sharp gaze on the can she was trying to hide behind her body. "Are you eating pie filling?" He said it in an incredulous tone.

"No!" Clary answered a little too quickly as Jace raised an eyebrow at her. ". . . maybe. . ." She finished a little guiltily as Jace smirked at her. She slowly took the large can out from around her back. "But in my defense you live in a house full of sugar Nazi's. I couldn't find anything remotely sweet in this whole place."

Jace stared at her deeply; that was one of the things she liked about Jace. The way he focused on you, like you were the only girl in the world. Like nothing else mattered to him but you and whatever you were going to say. "I seriously can't believe you stooped this low." He teased her with a hooded smirk on his face, his toned and tanned chest reflected off the light shining from the enlarged moon; making it very hard to concentrate.

"Hey," She said as she spooned some more of the sweet filling and waved the spoon in front of him. "Don't knock it, 'til you try it."

Jace let out a laugh as she continued to wave the spoon in front of him as he stepped closer to her, the tops of his pajama covered thighs brushing her bare knee caps. His poetic lips parted as she brought the spoon closer to his mouth, before veering off and putting the silver into her own mouth. She moaned at the taste as Jace's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"You ate my spoonful." Jace accused her with a laugh, it was rich and deep. A sound she could listen to all day; the sound of Jace's voice in her ear, whispering against her skin.

She shook her head to make those forbidden thoughts leave as she smiled at him. "You're right, sorry." She dipped the spoon back in and took out another helping. "Here this time I'll give you some."

Again Jace's lips parted and again the food ended up in Clary's mouth.

"Clary!" Jace said with a laugh as she chewed the cherries with glee.

"I can't help it! My willpower is just so weak." She readied the spoon and held it out. "Okay, this time for sure." Jace grinned and raised his eyebrow playfully at her; his thighs were completely against her knees as he leaned into her. "I'm serious."

Jace waited a moment longer before narrowing his gaze in suspicion and opening his mouth, she brought the spoon toward his mouth as just as it was about to enter she drove it back and passed her own lips. She moaned again as Jace let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head and causing his hair to look like a golden flame.

"Wow, Jace, you're really missing out." Clary said as she swallowed her mouthful and grinned at him. "This filling is delicious; I bet it's got to be the best thing anyone's ever tasted." She gloated in his face as she took another spoonful, laughing to herself at the joke of it all.

Jace stopped chuckling as he watched as her tongue licked the spoon clean, his eyes grew darker as his gaze fluttered over her. The dark look he had gotten when they were sparring was back on his face; she was astonished to realize it was desire. The air around them became thick suddenly like when they had been playing the piano and Clary became shockingly aware of the weight that was being applied to her knees from his muscular thighs; his chest, which was shadowed from the dips and drops in each contour of raw muscle, called out for her to scrape her fingernails down. She could feel her heart pounding as if she had been or was running; her breath was coming out in fast puffs.

"I'll take that bet."

Before any reasonable thought came to her head, Jace's lips were suddenly and pleasurably against hers. His lips, which she had thought had always looked soft, were much softer than she realized. They felt like silk as the moved over her lips, nibbling and pressing on hers. She matched the pace he set perfectly as she tilted her head and took his mouth deeper into her own. The spoon clattered from her hand onto the counter top as her spread her fingers through his hair, which parted for her fingers to easily slip through. She dug her fingernails lightly into the back of his scalp as he groan and struggled to move closer.

His hands, which had been placed on the outside of her thighs with digging into her hips; one of them traveling up the side of her shirt and over her bare arms which erupted in goose bumps at his touch. She spread her legs to allow Jace to step closer as his palms cupped her face, making her lips part with his tongue as he truly tasted her.

She had never been kissed in such a way before. She'd been kissed once or twice on the mouth but they had been meaningless pecks that didn't even make her spark; Jace's kiss was setting her on fire. She moved her mouth with his as they pulled back for only a second to grab a gust of air and came back together. It was like they were becoming one being; like Jace was consuming all that she was. He was the only air she knew as her heart began to pick up pace; she placed a hand over his chest softly and feeling the hard skin under her palm made her pulse speed up more. She gasped in surprise her mouth dropping open again, which Jace took advantage of, as the speed of his heart matched the irregular beat of her own.

She had the same effect, he had on her. She'd never had that happen before.

He pulled back slowly, taking his sweet time as he dropped two more kisses against her lips and placed his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled together as their chest's brushed with every heaving gasp for air.

"You were wrong."

"Huh?" Clary's brain had shrunken to the size of a pea; she had no idea what he was referring to.

"The bet." He said with a breathless laugh as she threw him a confused look. "You said the pie filling was the best thing anyone's ever tasted but you were wrong." He pulled her closer until they were chest to chest and breathing as one person. "If anyone tasted you they would certainly know that the cherry pie filling is not the best thing they've ever tasted." His fingers dug into her hips as his eyes turned dark. "Which is impossible since you're mine; so no man should ever be tasting you."

"I'm . . . yours?" Clary said as she blinked vigorously again; hoping beyond anything that this wasn't a dream. But it couldn't be right? She was Valentine's daughter. She was damned; no man in their right mind wanted her. Not unless they also wanted a death wish.

"Of course." He said against her lips, dropping another kiss on her swollen mouth. "Don't you want to be?" She stared into his eyes as Jace frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as his face flashed with vulnerability.

Of course, she did that was the silliest comment she'd ever heard. But the real question was how could he. "But I'm Valentine's daughter."

"And I'm the former son of Stephen and Celine Herondale and current son of Robert and Maryse Lightwood. Does that matter?"

"Of course, it does." Clary said dropping her arms and closing her eyes. The moon seemed to brighten somehow and grow larger as it engulfed the window's entire frame and took up more of the dark night sky. "You were raised by good people-"

"And you weren't?" Jace answered grasping her face making her look at him and not at the distance she was putting between them. "You were raised by Jocelyn Fairchild and Lucian Graymark; they're good people too."

"Yes," She nodded feeling the tears that began to gather in her eyes. "But you don't have his blood in you. You have Stephen's blood. My blood burns, Jace. Some people think it's a disease and I find myself agreeing with them."

"Well I don't."

"Then your crazy."

"Crazy in love with you."

Clary widened her eyes as she stared at him. This _had _to be a dream, this could not possibly be real. How could this boy, this angel, want her? She was no one.

No one but Valentine's daughter. "That's impossible."

"How?" Jace said righteously as his hands firmly held her face. "How is it impossible? Because you're Valentine's daughter-"

"Yes," Clary said shoving him away from her, his hand falling from her face as he stumbled back in surprise. "Yes, that's exactly it. I know you hear the whispers. You know the stories about my other Institute's, I'm sure." She jumped from the counter and looked up at the moon. "You're as foolish as my parents; my mother wears her sin for everyone to see and Luke, he's just the same as her. As you." She said not turning back to look at him.

"Because they're proud of you." Jace spoke in a whisper as he came up behind her and placed his hands softly on her shoulders. He spun her around toward him slowly with no force at all, she could have stopped him if she really wanted to. Jace wouldn't have forced her to do anything but she simply didn't want to. "And why shouldn't they be? You're perfect, Clary. You're so different from your father; you're good. Why shouldn't they be proud of that. Why shouldn't I?"

She stared up at him in amazement as he stepped closer to her. She stumbled back into the counter; the marbled surface dug into her back as the moon created a wonderland around them. "I have a request."

She smiled and raised her eyebrow. "I thought the winner was supposed to get the victory request."

"You are but I'm taking it."

"Is that allowed?"

"No rules, rememeber?"

Clary found herself laughing as a few choice tears slipped down her cheeks. "Okay, loverboy, what's your request?"

"Love me."

Clary closed her eyes and laid her head against his strong chest her lips brushed over his bare skin as she spoke. "That's a silly thing to ask for."

She felt Jace stiffen under her forehead as he tensed. "And why is that?"

She brought her face away from his chest and looked up at him. He looked like a mournful prince as the moon created shadows across his face, sharpening his cheekbones and defining his jaw. "Well, it's a waste of a request."

"Is it?" She watched Jace swallow thickly.

"I would say it's a waste if you already have it."

Jace smiled as he dipped his face closer to hers. "Kiss me."

Clary laughed. "That's two requests." She said even as he was bringing his head closer to hers, she smirked at him as she locked her hands in his hair.

"Humor me."

Jace laughed again as his lips closed around hers under a lover's moon.

* * *

**REVIEW!**


	2. Part One: The End

**Okay, so some people thought that my oneshot for ****To Just Be Me**** was unfinished and others wished for me to continue. I wrote this for them: this is a two part ending to Clary Morgenstern's, Valentine's daughters, story. You do not by any means have to read it, if you liked the way the other one ended that's fine so please don't write any mean comments about the follow up I've written. It took me a long time to write and I would hope that the final product pleases you like it does me.**

**Without further ado, Part One of The End.**

**Disclaimer: Like always I'm just at home, writing about a world I didn't create while the actual author, Cassandra Clare, owns all the characters and universe that I wished I lived in. I own nothing.**

* * *

Please read the author's note.

Please.

I'm begging you.

I'll gravel if I have too.

* * *

Clary Morgenstern was dressed in a cloak of gold; the fabric rubbing against her skin should have irritated her soft, freckled flesh but it was gratuitous, leaving a silky, glossy and smooth feeling instead. She shined brightly through the darkness of the open meadow, as if she were a beckon of light.

_He is coming._

Clary blinked against the voice in her head; it was a soft sound like the ringing of bells. It was a melodious noise but in a tone that she couldn't quite identity what gender spoke. It filled her mind with a sense of peace and serenity that she knew was misplaced in such a dark place.

Clary's eyes viewed the open field as with every step she took forward more images began to clear. Sucking in a deep breath, Clary felt her bare feet squishing against each blade of glass she stepped on. A light rain fell like tears from the heavens as she walked onward through the darkness, her cloak radiating its golden beam further and clearing the darkness from the field.

What stood before her was the most horrifying sight. Men and women of all kinds; Downworlder or Shadowhunter, lay sprawled out in crumpled heaps. Monsters with eyes of red and mouths dripping black ooze overpowered the still standing people with vicious, piercing screams. Vaguely, Clary could make out Isabelle and Alec who were fighting as valiantly as they could but blood was seeping from more than one wound and they would surely pass out or be stricken down soon.

She took a step closer to them as her eyes fanatically searched through the piled upon demons and crippled people, her eyes almost over looking him all together. There he stood as if a God on a mundane Earth, his sword perched at his side with a crooked and fraudulent smile; proud of the destruction and heartache he caused.

As if sensing her eyes, he turned toward her; the air around him choking with undeserved pride and superciliousness; his eyes were the color of his heart, a deep and remorseless black, and his hair the color of fine, soft snow. His face always hard seemed to harden further when he focused on her. Her earlier fears were back; how could she beat him when so many had fallen? She was nothing. She had nothing.

Vaguely, she saw Max running into the deep forest behind her, no doubt for more help, she assumed.

_Do not let the young boy go. __**You**__ must be the one to venture into the dark woods, for you are the only one who will make it out __**alive**__._

A bright light over took everything, blinding Clary as she put a hand to cover her eyes. It shadowed over Valentine who was still walking toward her, his hand on his blade. The world seemed to go silent as she stared upward; a silhouette of a figure took to the sky. The sight was absolutely breathtaking; Clary found herself sucking in a breath to fill her chest with air.

"But what if I can't?" She yelled against a strong wind that began to blow. It made the curls upon her head swirl and twine together in knots; her golden cloak pushed against her shoulders. "I'm nothing." She whispered against the voices in her head; feeling the choking sensation of tears and the scratchiness of her throat.

_You are, Clarissa Adele Fairchild Morgenstern, descendant of Jocelyn Fairchild Morgenstern and Valentine Morgenstern. It can only be you; it is your destiny, dear child. His very creation will be his destruction._

Clary shook her head as if to wipe the confusion from her mind. "What do you mean? What's my destiny?"

_You will destroy the darkness upon this land, dear Clarissa. It was written in the stars long ago._

Clary blinked as she shook her head again; this couldn't be real. This had to be a dream; she had to wake up. She was worthless, she could do nothing. The fate of the world didn't rest in her blood coated hands.

Clary seemed to finally focus on her surroundings as she let out a scream; the sticky, slick gore ran down her hands and coated the brilliant, radiating light of her cloak. In her confusion, she had fallen to her knees while staring upward toward the no longer standing figure in the sky.

Blood congealed around her thighs, having soaked the ground with rivers of it. A fallen man lay with his face buried downward in the clotted mess, the sight too grotesque for even Clary to take. She turned her head as if out of necessity toward the dark and daunting woods that young Max had sprinted into; she watched unable to look away as his body was dragged out by the mouth of two large dogs; black as the color of night their coats were. Max had stood no chance and now his blood sprayed greedily into their gapping, sharp mouths.

The smell of death and iron hung high in the air as more fell and didn't get back up.

"No," Clary whispered as she watched, unable to stand, unable to move.

A malicious and callous laugh took form in front of her as her father stepped toward her, his hand rested calmly on his blade. "Do you see what you've done, you cursed, vile creature?" His smile was blindingly white matching his hair but he smelled of death and gore. "The destruction you leave in your wake. They die because of you, Clarissa." He looked throughout the crowd thoughtfully before shaking his head and zeroing his gaze on her. "But I won't fall to the likes of you. You're not strong enough. It takes someone with vindication and potency to survive." He smirked down at her none-too-kindly. "You're too pathetic; you love to strongly. Love makes you weak, affection makes you feeble, and warmth makes you fragile. And because you are soft, it will be your one true downfall."

Clary felt her blood begin to boil as if someone was cooking her from the inside as Valentine lifted his blade high over his head, his eyes like two black pits from hell, stared into her very being. The voices of people who degraded her and tore her down ran through her head.

"_**You may look like your mother in image but you shall never be chaste. You have a dark heart; it is reflected in your eyes, Valentine's daughter."**_

"_**You are nothing but a demon with an angel's face. Your black-hearted, consuming love with destroy even the strongest man."**_

"_**To be a Morgenstern, is to be cursed. You are damned, Valentine's daughter."**_

_Do not let the boy go or all will be lost._

The voices sang in Clary's ears.

"Clary! **No**!" She heard her name being called through heartbroken lips, Jace coming into sight. His face was cracking like a fine piece of glass and his mouth was contorted into a desolate looking frown. His gold eyes dimmed with every inch the sword moved. It was all she could see before the blade cut into her vision and she fell into darkness.

_On the fifth sun of the eighth month he will come. _

_You must prepare; you must be ready._

* * *

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, Clary put her hands to her skin frantically. Her vision was fine and the blood that had coated her body in a fine sheen was replaced with her perspiration. Her red hair clung to her back and she pulled her shirt away from her wet body, it made her feel like she was being constricted.

She blinked against the image in her eyes before rubbing her lids and jumping from her bed to scribble on a sheet of paper, the image that took refuge in her mind. The curling lines and the looped corners, the elegance and superiority she had to draw into it. She sat crumpled at her desk, dropping the uncapped eyeliner that Isabelle had left in her room and staring down at the image she had made with her head in her hands. She didn't know what it meant but she couldn't truly focus on it now.

She leaped from her seat as she charged into Isabelle's room to find her best friend in a tangled heap upon her bed. Numerous piles of clothes lay haphazardly around the pink room and more were spread out on the bed. Fine pieces of fabric and soft laces were thrown about, not at all looking out of the ordinary. She smiled when she heard Isabelle snore softly before closing the door and moving on.

She opened Alec's door next; his room looking just the same as always. Numerous books of the Council and Clave history lay opened upon his desk. Notebooks scribbled in sat in different places in his room; she could vaguely see that under his bed, he had a container full of weapons and a few sparkly shirts. No doubt something, his boyfriend, Magnus had picked up for him. He lay on his black sheets diagonally, his head almost falling over the edge as Clary trudged into the room. She pulled the sheets back up to his chin and covered his bare chest, which she knew he would have blushed upon the sight of her eyes on his bare skin.

She closed the door softly behind her with a click before taking a deep breath and continuing onward. Her mother and Luke lay peacefully next to each other; a part of her wished to climb in with them. But she would have to explain why she had wanted to do it in the morning and she didn't think she had the strength to relive the vivid dream just yet.

"_You're not strong enough. It takes someone with vindication and potency to survive."_

She closed her parents door a little harsher than needed and winced to herself before rushing down the corridor to the second to last room she needed to check on for the night. Knowing she had to be more than just quiet she practically tiptoed into Jace's room, like she didn't have a Silence Rune on her left ankle. She watched him rest, his eyes moving under his lids and a small smile on his face, obviously enjoying whatever he was dreaming about.

His room was still stark clean. Everything in its place and nothing out of place, aside from the three pictures he had in his room, it showed no personality or life. His walls were bare and his sheets were white. She walked with light feet to the picture on his dresser; it was an old picture of Stephen and Celine. Neither was smiling in the picture and Clary knew he kept another picture of Stephen and Amatis in his top dresser drawer as if to remember his father had, had his own mind at one point. To remind himself that he would not be like him; that he was happy now and would stay that way.

She looked at the second picture of him and the Lightwoods. His true family, the people who truly made him the way he was. The people that took in a lost boy and gave him a purpose; the people that loved him.

But the picture that really made her smile was of the one with her and him. They had been having a lazy day at the Institute; Simon had been showing Isabelle how to work his new HD camera and she had took the picture of the two of them sitting on the Institute's stone steps. Clary was leaning over Jace's shoulder with a smile on her face, clearing looking at whatever he was reading. Jace had turned his head to look up at her; his face shining with love and devotion, his trademark smirk wasn't present. Just the smile he seemed to only save for her was there.

She loved that picture. She blinked back the image of the Jace in her dream, his face falling away in pieces as if he was made of porcelain. She closed her eyes a moment before looking back down at her boyfriend, who had his large golden gaze locked on her. She wasn't surprised; she knew she could never sneak past Jace. He always seemed to know where she was as if he was connected to her in a way and she to him. She enjoyed the thought of her and Jace connected too much to be annoyed by it.

As if sensing something was wrong, he pulled her arm gently down so she lay back on his bed. They lay on their sides facing each other before Jace took a breath. "What's wrong, baby?"

A tingle when through her body; she loved it when Jace called her by an endearing nickname. It made her stomach pitch in excitement and her skin to quiver in pleasure. His voice was thick with sleep, husky and masculine as his hair lay tousled around his head like fine, golden thread. His poetic lips were pulled down in a frown and she found all she wanted was for him to kiss her. To make her forget.

She bit her lip as his arm went around her waist and pulled her forward, her head fitting perfectly under the croak of his neck, his chin resting on the top of her head as she curled into his embrace; her face resting against the soft cotton of his holey T-Shirt.

"I just had a bad dream." Clary said sinking into Jace's warmth.

"Hmmm." Jace said and the sound vibrated against his chest as Clary shivered from undisguised pleasure; Jace pulled her closer as the result. "What happened?" His tone was lazy as if he was on the brink of sleep again.

And even though she didn't think she had the strength, it seemed to pour out of her mouth like a river. She told him everything, his body becoming more and more alert as the dream progressed. Tears were falling from her eyes as her lips quivered around the words.

" . . . and, Max, he . . . Max!" Clary shot up like a rocket before Jace had time to react and darted out of his room and down the hallway, not at all pausing at Jace's harsh whisper of her name. She pushed the door to the young boy's room open quickly as she let her shoulders sag in relief. He lay curled up on his side, the discolored and worn figurine Jace had giving him long ago clenched in his hand; his glasses were askew on his nose.

She smiled softly as she walked into the room, feeling another pair of eyes on her as she worked. Gently, she pulled Max's glasses from his head, pulled the sharp figurine from his tight grip placing them both on the side table that sat perched next to the bed. She took the opened Magna book, that he must have been reading before he fell asleep, and set that beside his glasses and toy too. She sat quietly and brushed some hair from his head before leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

In the months she had spent at the Institute, she and Max had shared their times together. She trained him on occasion, or at least gave him pointers on what to do when he started to train, and they watched movies together, went to Pizza Planet, read Magna and she had shared her bed with him more than once when he had a bad dream. She had come to love the small boy as she stared down at him.

The kiss to his forehead had made his eyes flutter open. "Clary?" He whispered his voice harsh from sleep as he stared up at her with his big brown eyes. "Is that you?"

She nodded before smiling. "Yeah, it's me."

"What are you doing here?" It wasn't an accusation but rather an innocent question made by an innocent child. His eyes looked like a young doe's eyes and she felt her stomach pinch sharply at the images in her dream.

"I had a bad dream." Clary all but choked out.

Max nodded understandingly. "Oh, okay." Without asking or being told, he simply moved over. Even though he was a child, even though he was ignorant to most of everything; he knew and he understood. He knew what she needed and he simply gave it. Without asking for anything in return, he smiled and curled back up and waited for her to snuggle up next to him like they usually did.

Clary had to keep the tears back as she curled into the bed with him, Jace's eyes still on her as he walked into the room. She made room for him without question as Max cuddled up close to her and she to Jace. She would never let anything happen to them. She couldn't; she wouldn't.

It wasn't a possibility.

_**Do not let the boy go.**_

"I won't." Clary whispered as she pulled Max closer and snuggled closer to Jace, who tightened the arm he had slung around her waist. "I won't let any of them go."

And as if she had found the answer a sense of calm overtook her earlier panicked senses and she settled into a restful, dreamless, sleep.

* * *

Clary sat idly still; when being a Shadowhunter you have to learn the art of patience and tolerance. When on hunts, some might have to survey the grounds for hours; much like a sniper for the army they must not move or make a sound. One false step could be their last. One wrong move could be destruction.

She ran her coated fingernails across her palms, feeling them scratch against the soft flesh there. She smirked as she heard the slight almost unnoticeable sound of a floor board creaking. Mistake number one; she knew where they were standing now or at least she could eliminate most of the space that was behind her.

Left side of the room; their left, her right. She could tell they were behind her as she tightened her muscles and waited in anticipation. The stranger leaped as Clary dropped her body to the floor and rolled to her back, planting her feet solidly against the assailant's chest. She pushed upwards with her heels and sent them soaring over her and landing on their back with a sharp outtake of air. They were vulnerable now as they tried to take in the air that had been knocked out of their lungs on impact giving just the right amount of time to unsheathe the blade at her thigh and trap them beneath her body. Using her legs to get a sturdy hold on their hips, her hand pushed them deeper into the floor, her paint-coated nails softly dug into the defined muscles of their abdomen; her blade nestled delicately against the soft flesh of their neck.

She leaned forward with a dark smile as her hair fell over them like a curtain of sanctuary. "Got ya." She whispered against his lips as her boyfriend let out a breathless laugh. Her blade was the only thing standing between them, his hand moved slowly; caressing her skin with a heat only he could make before it settled into her blood red hair.

"You already had me." He murmured against her own lips. He reached forward about to place a kiss on her parted mouth before he pulled back with a deep inhale of breath. A small, shallow cut had been made on the base of his throat from where her dagger had kissed his skin. "Well, are you going to move the blade so I can kiss you properly? Because as much as I love this position we find ourselves in, because really I do, I would much rather be kissing you."

Clary smiled down at Jace with a glowing look in her bright green eyes, she leaned back from him and tilted her head to the side as if thinking about what he was saying and giving it some deep thought. "No, I don't think I will. I rather like you this way."

Jace let out a laugh, which had Clary's stomach curling with delight. She absolutely loved everything about him; the way he smelled, of sandalwood, sunlight and something raw. Something that had her shivering every time he stood close, something that reminded her of how he was a man. She loved his smile; with his endearingly chipped tooth and the way he had no fear. She loved the way he felt for things, so deeply and with as much love as he could hold in his heart. She cherished everything about him from his eyes which could darken into a swirling, thick topaz whenever he felt desire or a harden brass whenever he was enraged. The way he looked at her as if he were touching every intimate part of her with a simple gaze.

There was no doubt about it; Clarissa Adele Morgenstern was in love with Jace Herondale Lightwood.

She only hoped he never stopped loving her; that he never figured out how much better he was than she. How much better he could do. She hoped he never figured out how much he didn't need her; because he was a necessity now. She didn't truly know how she would begin to live without him.

Valentine's daughter.

"And what way would that be?" Jace said with a raise of one of his golden eyebrows as if daring her to say what he knew she was going to say next. "Charmingly dashing and immensely handsome? Because I rather like me that way too."

Clary shook the voices out of her head as she stared down at the man that made all the insanity make sense. When she was with Jace, the voices of disgusted and appalled Shadowhunter's was less foreboding. With him; it didn't seem to matter. So she smiled, because she could, and leaned toward him; his eyes now darken into that swirling, mysterious topaz that she so desperately loved.

"No," She said lowering her voice to a whisper, it came out husky and seductive which took Clary by surprise. "I was thinking more along the lines of," She brought her moth close to his ear as she felt him shiver beneath her strong hold. "Obedient."

Jace let out a growl as he threw a hand into her wild, mess of curls; pulling her head down and latching his mouth onto her own. A battle for dominance, one they always fought, ensued. His mouth was hot and wet and his tongue pushed against her own as the hand that gripped her hair tightened pleasingly. She let out a sound, which sounded a lot like a deep throated whimper, something that surprised her as Jace tilted his head and moved his lips against hers. They were always good at this: this dance. She could feel her heart beating wildly matching his own; she laid her body fully against his, chest to chest and legs tangling together.

The fever of lust passed methodically as they brushed their lips against each other lightly. They both shared the same breath as the leaned back and slowly came back together again. One of his hands had gone to her hip as if to keep her where she was and the other was placed delicately against her cheekbone; his thumb rubbing against her skin soothingly. It was kisses like this that made Clary think it was all just a dream. The soft, passionate kisses that made her feel as if she wasn't close enough to him. The made her feel as if they shared one pulse and one heartbeat as they raced in sync.

She let her hand trail down his neck as she placed her palm against his chest. It thumped erratically in time with her own. Her other hand traveled up into his hair, her fingers spreading through the silky strands as she held him to her. He pulled back first and placed his forehead against hers, his nose grazing her cheek before bumping into her own.

"Rule number one," He whispered as his hands locked around her wrists. He pulled back and smiled down at her. She blinked in confusion, not at all remembering when he had rolled them over so he was on top. Her dagger was across the room, having been pushed across the slick wood of the training room. She had no idea when he had gotten the blade from her hand; she truly was intoxicated with him. "Never let yourself be distracted." He placed a soft kiss on her lips again. "And just for the record, I am anything but obedient."

Clary bit her lip to keep a smile off her face but she could feel it creep across her mouth anyway as she looked up at her. Jace's gleaming golden eyes shined down on her like a beckon of light, his curly strands of deep blonde hair fell forward as he gazed down at her with his trademark smirk. He truly was beautiful. She wondered if she would ever get used to his beauty or if it would take her by surprise as it did every time she looked at him.

Clary shook her head. "Well just for the record, I wasn't distracted." She said with another failed attempt at a hidden smile. "This is all part of my master plan."

Jace laughed again; she watched as the muscles of his chest and abdomen caved before firming up again. "Oh? And what is this master plan?" He smiled as he moved closer to her; his eyes taking up all she could see. "To fall right into my woman alluring trap?"

Clary shook her head as she stared up at him; the humor in her eyes gone. "No," She shook her head again. "To have you fall madly in love with me."

Jace stared down at her with a true smile, his eyes softening but never losing their look of amusement. "Madly?"

"Intensely."

He dipped his head lower; his alluring lips seemed to tease her from where they hovered above hers. "Intensely?"

"Irrevocably."

His lips grazed hers as he smiled down at her. "Irrevocably?"

Clary opened her mouth to speak again, their lips brushing, but another voice beat her to the punch. "Ew! Seriously, is no place sacred!" Clary felt her face flush as she turned her face away from the door to the training room where Isabelle stood with her hands placed on her hips, no doubt.

Jace let out a throaty laugh as his nose grazed Clary's neck. "I was thinking we were making this place sacred."

Clary let out a nervous laugh as she pushed Jace off of her, who rolled easily with a groan. He laid flat on his back again staring up at the ceiling, a look of loss on his face. Clary scrambled to her feet and addressed the trim figured girl that stood perched in the doorway. Just as Clary thought, Isabelle's blood red colored nails were rested firmly on her lascivious hips. Her hair hung down her head and rested against her waist; dark and smooth like ink. Her brown eyes held an air of amusement as she took in Clary's red cheeks, swollen lips and twitching hands.

She pushed a red curl away from her face as she smiled at her best friend. "Hey Izzy." The wickedly beautiful girl's smile turned from a smirk to a genuine grin, one that warmed Clary's heart even more. "I thought you had a date today?"

"Yeah," Jace said suddenly behind her, his hands snaking their way around her waist possessively, as if staking his claim to her. "Don't you have another heart to break and a date to make bitter?"

Isabelle narrowed her eyes on her brother as she scowled. "I left early. I saw where it was going and I didn't like it."

"Well, just because your date was horrid doesn't mean you have to come and ruin ours." Jace said his face nuzzled in Clary's neck. "I saw where our date was going and I was extremely enjoying it."

Clary pulled away from Jace was a wide eyed expression. "Jace!"

Jace looked at her with a wide-eyed innocence; his hands spread out in front of him in a look of surrender. "What?"

Isabelle wasn't affected by Jace's harsh and sarcastic tone as she leaned against the doorframe of the training room's entrance. "Wow, this is your date? And I thought mine was pathetic."

Jace narrowed his eyes as Clary covered her mouth so she could stifle her laugh. Only Isabelle could throw Jace's own words back in his face; and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it. "I'll have you know any date with yours truly, could never be pathetic."

Clary bit her lip as Isabelle let out a harsh laugh. She nodded her head toward Clary as she motioned her over with her nicely painted hand, her pouty lips pulled up in a smirk. "C'mon, Clary, let's go discuss our dreadful dates over ice cream and chick flicks."

Jace let out a laugh. "Like Clary would—"

"Coming." Clary said as she walked forward toward Isabelle and linked arms with her.

"Wha—What are you—I mean, I don't—"

Clary smirked at him as Isabelle turned her attention to her golden eyed brother; her brown eyes flashing with amusement and endearment. "Didn't you ever hear? Chicks before—"

Jace smirked dangerously as he took an intimidating step forward. "If you finish that sentence, you'll both regret it greatly."

Clary opened her mouth wide. "What did I do?"

"You've made your grave by association."

Clary laughed as Isabelle tried to smirk but ended up flashing her brother a gleaming, white, toothed smile. "Oh yeah and what are you going to do about it, brother?"

Jace shook his head with a devilish glint in his eye, a look that both made Clary uneasy and excited. "Don't test me, sister." Isabelle narrowed her eyes before biting her lip to keep the smile from her face which, like Clary had before, failed miserably.

"Chicks before dicks."

"That's it!"

Both girls let out a scream as they ran down the hallway, Jace close on their heels. They dodged around Luke, who was walking toward the study his glasses low on his nose and his eyes frantically scanning over the front page of a brown leather-spine book. He blinked furiously as Isabelle, who was running in 7-inch heels Clary had no idea how, swiftly twirled out of way as Clary sidestepped hi m.

"Girls, there's a—"

"Sorry!" Isabelle yelled from behind her as Jace flipped over Luke completely never fumbling as he charged forward, not the least bit out of breath.

"Can't talk now, Luke!" Clary yelled over her shoulder as she watched Jace gain distance, his chest still uncovered for the world to see as the muscles of his chest glistened with sweat.

"But—"

She didn't hear the rest of what he had to say as they rounded the hall's corner. A nice sweat was breaking out on Clary's body, the muscles of her legs and pumping arms were starting to burn but she pushed herself further making the whining of her limbs harder to ignore.

"Max!" Jace yelled as the little boy looked up from the comic book he was read with a look of wonder on his face. "Barricade, little man!"

Max didn't need to be told twice, at least not by Jace, as he sprung to his feet his comic book completely forgotten as he tried to intersect them at the end of the corridor. Isabelle ran faster and Clary watched as she pushed forward with the balls of her feet flipping over Max, just as Jace had down earlier. Clary smirked, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pushed the heels of her feet against the Institute's hard brick wall before pushing off and using her other foot to level her balance on the opposite wall, jumping over Max completely as she landed over him with a laugh.

Isabelle let out a whooping sound, her arms pumping in the air as she and Clary charged forward. "God, we're awesome."

"But not," There was a swift feeling of air against her cheek, it only lasted for a moment but it was noticeably none the less as Jace landed in a crotch in front of them. He stood slowly, his arms crossed, and his smirk present; his ego was plainly seen as he gloated to himself. "As awesomely wonderful as I am."

Isabelle simply smiled in response as she turn quickly on her heel and charged back in the direction they came from; Clary barely escaped Jace's grabbing hands before she took off too. Max stood in their way, his body language the same as Jace's was but his was more adorable and cute rather than sexy and dangerous. Isabelle took barely any notice to her little brother and she merely pushed him out of the way.

"Hey!" Max said as he dusted the dirt and grime from the floor off his shirt, Jace stopped a moment to see that he was standing upright before they both ran down the hall after them. "You're gonna get it now, Izzy."

"Gotta catch me first, Max."

Jace laughed as they approached the study's doors again, Luke no longer there as the two girls ran with everything they had left. "He isn't what you should be scared of, Izzy. At least, not when I'm done with you both."

All four of the kids shared a laugh. Clary's eyes had been closed for only a fraction, but that was all the time that was needed for Alec to step in the way. "Guys, stop acting like children! We have a—"

There was no way to stop their momentum as the two girls slammed into the older boy, followed by the slamming of Jace's and Max's bodies. All five of the tangled kids were hurled forward into the study's doors and crashed right through them with a loud blast. The room was deathly silent as the five kids looked up at the Shadowhunters that filled the room; each giving them looks of criticism and bewilderment.

"Clave meeting." Alec finished with an embarrassed sigh.

* * *

Clary sat with her back straight, staring forward at the people that sat down the row of chairs at the large foreboding table in the study. She was seated at the head, which to most should have been an honor, but it felt more like a prosecution chair. The eyes that stared back at her were none too kind as they watched her with the hate filled orbs of those who had trusted her father. Of those who knew of the venomous blood that leaked through her veins and unsettled them. The power that laid in her small, paint covered hands; they resented her for what they could not understand.

She couldn't blame them, in truth, she resented herself. She didn't want this blood; not the blood of a monster. She was the spawn of Satan; at least, that's how they saw her. And who was she to blame them? Her father was a powerful and crude man; the mere thought of the things he had done, and would continue to do, made her stomach turn with acid.

Their judgmental eyes dug into her skin, like burrowing ticks, they searched for her supposed "pure" blood to leech from her soul; the purest part of her so they may rip that from her too, just as they had done to her pride and self-worth. But they couldn't take what was untainted to her away; it wasn't inside her but embodied in the four kids that huddled in the corner of the large room. Jace, who had been given a shirt to cover himself, had been trying to get her attention for the last 10 minutes and though she had refused to meet his gaze at first, she relented. His golden eyes filled her lungs with the deep breath of air that it needed and gave her the strength to stare forward at the glaring men and women surrounding her.

As long as the Lightwood's had her back, she would be fine.

Isabelle stood like a force to be reckoned with her arms crossed in the universal body language sign for "unapproachable". She glared at the back of the heads of the cloaked men and women, who paid her no attention. She seemed to notice that she didn't hold the attention of the room when she raised her head to look at Clary. As if sensing she needed the support, she sent her a genuine "Isabelle" smile.

Her mother stood by Luke, her arms also crossed as she stared suspiciously around the room. Maryse sat with a sigh at her crisp, wood desk. "What's brought on this," She glanced around the room, her face hardened; her blue eyes seemed to freeze everyone in the room. Clary was reminded immediately of Isabelle; they shared the same superiority and control over a situation. "Unexpected meeting, Inquisitor Aldertree?"

A man stood from one of the chairs at the long table, his stare cut into Clary's as judgmental as any she had ever seen. A deep twitch started in Clary's stomach as she watched him approach her; a feeling of dread and hopelessness followed after. This was going to be bad.

His hairless head reflected harshly off the study's chandelier, the crystals of the hanging piece of art were exquisite and delicate but mirrored against Inquisitor Aldertree's head changed the entire persona of the suspended light fixture. It was menacing and callous. His short stature did nothing to affect his outward guise of superiority; he walked as if he were as tall and beautiful as Jace.

"Well, Maryse," Aldertree said his voice toneless as he nodded toward her. "I've come to discuss the current fatalities that have been piling up in New York's streets."

This caused everyone to stand up straighter, the room being strangled with the tension that filled the already oxygen lacking room, Maryse simply blinked her hands calmly linked atop her sharp desk. "I see." She said evenly. "And that's what called on this overly abundant meeting?" She gave a smirk as the round man flinched. Clary put a hand to her mouth in shock as Maryse blandly called out the amount of Council members that sat rod straight around the table.

Luke gave a laugh, as well as Jace, from the back of the room and Clary remembered something from when they had first come to the Institute months earlier. Something Luke had said.

_"I've missed your bluntness, Maryse. It really is good to see you again."_

Clary couldn't agree with Luke's comment more and also Maryse's. There were more people than necessary for such a meeting and usually the Inquisitor only made appearances for cases that needed . . . investigation. Did he think there was a traitor among them? Causing such casualties? As if sensing her thoughts, Aldertree's eyes cut back her.

_Oh no, _Clary thought as the feeling of despair and turmoil grew larger, boiling and churning in her stomach like acid. Her hands began to clam up and she tried to nonchalantly wipe them on the blue jeans she wore, stopping immediately when the Aldertree's razor gaze fell to her hands. This was really bad.

"No, I've brought these three Council members' with me as witnesses."

Maryse frowned and rubbed her forefinger and thumb against her creased forehead. "And why would you need witnesses if this meeting is to discuss murders in New York?" Her voice was exasperated and she sounded like she could take no more games.

Aldertree laughed, his small head thrown back harshly as his even tinier mouth contorted into a wicked smile. "You have no idea of these gruesome deaths and in truth I wouldn't have expected you too. The Council and I were handling it—"

"What do you mean "handling it"?" Maryse looked to be getting angrier by the second and Clary was glad she didn't have to feel the rage in those icy blue eyes; it was enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

Aldertree raised a superior eyebrow at the Institute leader as if he were more advanced than she was. "I mean, exactly what I said. Please, don't tell me all the stress of running this _fine_ Institute has not driven you mad, Maryse." The way he said it made Clary think he was mocking her.

"Hey!" Isabelle yelled her hands forming fists on her hips; even Clary's parents faces hardened as Luke took a step closer to Maryse as if moving to shield her from Aldertree's harsh words.

"Don't talk to our mother that way." Max's small voice carried throughout the room as Jace took his small hand in his large one, engulfing the tiny boy's entire limb.

"She may be your mother but she isn't yours, Hernodale. And you'll do better to remember your elders deserve respect, child."

Jace's face hardened as he narrowed his gaze on Aldertree. The insult was a random jab, seeing as Jace had not spoken a word—which was very unlike him—since they had entered the study.

"Oh, I'm sure he remembers. But last I checked pitiable and deplorable men do not top the list of esteem." Jace spoke coldly from where he stood at the back of the room, his eyes enraged and turning a deep brassy color as he regarded the Inquisitor with undisguised disgust.

Aldertree's face reddened as a lazy smirk fell on Jace's mouth. "You insolent little worm! And you wonder why your parents gave you up!"

"They died—"

"You were given to Valentine first." Aldertree's nose curled up in disgust. "You're no better than her; no matter what blood you may share, angel or not." His finger pointed toward Clary, whose green eyes blinked in confusion before she stood from her seat in rage.

Jace had never told her of his life with Valentine; in all the months they had been together those words had never left his lips. Is that why he understood her? Because he had gone through the same treatment himself and still ended up good? And what did he mean by Angel? All Shadowhunters had Angel blood; did that mean Jace had more? Was he special like her? It would certainly explain a lot. Like how he was faster than the others and stronger, had more agility. Was that another of his well kept secrets? Was he trained like she was?

She knew she should have been enraged by Jace's deflection of the truth but how could she? If she had the chance she would deny Valentine too. How could she blame him for denying what she so desperately wished she could deny herself? Still, a faint hint of betrayal took refuge in her heart. If he had kept such a thing from her what else had he kept hidden? Had he lied about his feelings too?

His eyes pleaded with her across the room as she stared into them; knowing they would have to have a discussion about all this later.

"That is quite enough." Maryse's voice rang loud and true throughout the room. "You will remember your place, Aldertree, this is still my Institute. Just as my **son**," She seemed to emphasize the word in Aldertree's face, like putting a claim as to just what Jace was to her. "Will remember his."

"No matter if this is your Institute or not, I am still the Inquisitor." He spoke as if that should have explained why he was to be treated with higher respect than most.

"I don't care who you are." Clary watched with proud wide eyes as her mother stepped forward to Maryse's aid, as the older woman looked like she might just throw a few punches at the quacking Inquisitor. "You are in a sacred place for all Shadowhunters alike; you must treat everyone with the same amount of respect."

The sentence made Aldertree laugh. "Like you? The former wife of the most grotesque and appalling creature to pique our world? The very man who is responsible for the rising Shadowhunter slaughters in the city!" Aldertree waved a beige file above his head before slamming it back down upon the table behind him. His small head was turning a strange color of red, not exactly the color of a crayon but close. Clary could almost see the stream escaping his ears.

She watched as the manila folder vomited its contents out upon the table. Clary gasped at the sight before her; her hand cupping her mouth in horror. In front of her, all in various clothing, were twisted and mangled women— Shadowhunters and Downworlders— all varying in their age and size. Their streaming red hair falling around their heads in tangles and knots; blood laced like moss around there bodies. Each girl was missing one organ from a kidney to a liver; Clary couldn't even tell what some of the bodies were. Some resembled ground meat more than anything else. The sight was both grotesque and unsightly; Clary had to choke down her own bile from rising out of her mouth like acid.

Aldertree leaned down toward her, his mouth curling with disgust as if it was her fault these girls were slaughtered. "Do you see what your father did? Don't you see the resemblance?" He picked one of the pictures up and forced it into Clary's face, his short, pudgy fingers spreading through her red locks and clenching tight. "Don't you see it?" He yelled as he pulled her head closer, the image becoming blurred and distorted.

"Get your hands off my daughter." Luke growled, his eyes fluttering shut and reopening with a yellow hue. Jocelyn put a hand to his arm; torn between going to her daughter and taming the wolf that was bursting within her husband. Izzy hurried toward Luke after a frightful gaze from Clary and Alec took Max by the hand and led him toward Robert, who ushered them closer.

"That's enough."

There was a sharp tug as Clary's head was pulled back; a stinging sensation took refuge over her scalp as she rubbed against it knowing at least a handful of hair had been ripped out of her head. Jace stood protectively over her, his eyes seemed to glow under the light that shined from the hanging crystals of the chandelier. He glared at Aldertree; his stance both intimidating and daunting. Aldertree didn't look threatened except for the shining on his palms that was the tall tell sign of perspiration.

"Enough?" Aldertree said slightly shaken as he looked toward Clary, who had curled in on herself in fright. "No one could ever do **enough** for these girls. All girls who looked exactly like you coincidentally." He pointed his finger straight at Clary, who blinked furiously before glancing down and sucking in another breath. Each girl's eyes were bloodshot but green, each had long curling red hair but some showed dark roots, each small and elfish.

Her father had murdered these women but only after he fancied them to look just like his daughter. It was a message; a message just for her.

"So, excuse me, for not having any respect for the former wife of Valentine?" The comment made Jocelyn's head rise in defiance; her superiority overtaking Aldertree's making him look cheap while her mother looked like a scornful queen. "At least, your daughter is besmirched by default; the result of an act between two sinners. But you deserve no respect. You chose to marry such a foul man, you tainted yourself by choice."

Clary watched her mother stare back at Aldertree, an icy feeling overtaking the area. It suddenly seemed like the room had been separated; her mother and Maryse stood proudly on one side and the Council on the other. That was never good.

She waited for something wise and judicious to fall from her mother's mouth but nothing came as a dark look settled over her green orbs; like a storm that had been brewing for quite some time. Clary had never seen her mother look so broken, as if what Aldertree said held some truth she thought was correct. It might have been what she thought Clary to be: "the result of an act between two sinners", but she didn't think so. Not after her mother had walked around with her peccadillo upon her chest in every Institute only to be turned away or scorned.

_"You're as foolish as my parents; my mother wears her sin for everyone to see and Luke, he's just the same as her. As you." _

_"Because they're proud of you." Jace spoke in a whisper as he came up behind her and placed his hands softly on her shoulders "And why shouldn't they be? You're perfect, Clary. You're so different from your father; you're good. Why shouldn't they be proud of that? Why shouldn't I?"_

No, the reason for her mother's vulnerable state wasn't because of Clary but because she believed **she** deserved no respect. That she truly did taint herself. The thought had Clary enraged, so enraged in fact, that she stood again from her seat at the table and slammed her palms down on the sleek marble top.

"You'll remember to hold your tongue, Aldertree. My family's affairs are none of your concern." Clary's voice was steady and seemed to be a yell in the all but silent room.

"Your "family's" affairs? You count him as your family?" Aldertree smiled like he caught her in a lie.

Clary shook her head honestly. "No, I was referring to my mother and Luke."

"The dog?" Aldertree smiled as he looked to Luke, who had settled down; his soft brown eyes back in position and placed a hand on the one Jocelyn had set comfortingly on his shoulder. He glared at Aldertree behind his specs and let out a deep throated growl. His eyes flashed again as he furiously blinked as if to focus; Clary knew he was trying to keep his inner wolf at bay. "Interesting." He walked toward Clary slowly as if he was trying to be menacing. "So Valentine holds no love in your heart?"

Clary's fingers curled in and scratched against the hard surface under her palms. She closed her eyes for only a moment, the rage in her stomach seemed to bubble over and she could almost feel the heat of her anger falling over her. Like a fire that couldn't be set out; the longer she tried to contain it, the more it would swelter.

It had set for far too long.

No more.

She had laid down and taken it for too long.

The people who had mocked her; who had torn her down and beaten her character, the people that made her hate the way she was, who she was.

No more.

Glancing at Jace she let his golden gaze eat at her anger; fuel it with strength and power. His nostrils flared taking in some of her rage within himself before nodding. He would be her strength, he would be her pre-eminence, and he would be her vigor.

He would be her power.

"Are you really asking me if the very man you, not even 2 minutes ago, so blatantly exclaimed was grotesque and appalling holds any love in my heart?" Clary locked her eyes and stared straight at Aldertree, the rage boiling in her veins no longer able to hold it at bay. The Inquisitor said nothing as he looked at her. "No, he doesn't. If that isn't answer enough for your meager brain to understand, I'll explain it to you." The insult got a reaction out of the stout man as his hands curled into fists at his hips and the vein on his forehead began to reach outward. "I spent 12 years of my life with him becoming his perfect solider and then another 4 years running from him." She spit in disgust, her curls moving rapidly around her head like a flame. "And when he didn't think I was working adequately enough he would find his own means to motivate me; whether it be by pain or the torture of others. And besides me or my mother, there weren't many people motivating enough to hurt."

She curled her lip up at the Inquisitor, who was gazing at her with almost a look of wonder and pity. Neither of which Clary wanted, but she wouldn't get her hopes up about either. "You don't know what we've been through, what we've seen and fought through. You'll never know what it feels like to watch helplessly as someone takes what you so desperately need; you'll never know what it feels like to be completely and absolutely hopeless." Clary's voice was nothing but a whisper as she fought to keep the tears inside. The world she had seen through her father's eyes had been a cold and dead one. It was something she never wished to be a part of; something she never hoped to live in.

"My mother has been through hell. And the very people she needed, the very people she's supposed to count on turned their backs on her because of me." Clary bit her lip as it began to quiver, but she couldn't cry in front of them. She wouldn't show them her weakness; they would never know her self-loathing, her hatred for the blood that ran like poison through her veins.

She glanced down at the table that spilled pictures of broken girls, girls she had never known. Who had barely gotten the chance to live, all that were fashioned to look like her. The message was clear; her father no longer needed her. She was a loose cannon, a faulty string in his plan.

He needed her to go.

Like **hell**; she wasn't going anywhere.

"Let him come." She said her eyes were glued to each twisted and broken picture, all missing one organ to be stabbed to his wall of deceit and shame with only one piece missing.

The heart.

Her heart.

"What do you mean?" The Inquisitor seemed to start to tremble as if a strong wind had taken over the room and he was nothing but a flimsy potted plant.

Clary brought her head up slowly. Isabelle and the other Lightwoods had crossed the invisible line over to where Luke, Jocelyn, Maryse and Robert stood long ago. Like they had chosen the side they wished to remain; like they didn't even need to think about it. Jace still stood beside Clary, his wide eyed gaze on her as she looked back up at him. Cleo, who she hadn't even noticed was there, looked at her with a cold look of interest in the far corner of the study.

"Let him come. There's only one way this will end." She stared beside her to Jace, who stood with his hands shaking looking as if he was torn between sadistic excitement and logical dread. "Valentine's bringing the war to us, whether we like it or not."

"Well, we can't—" One of the Council members exclaimed as he shot out of his seat.

Clary held up a hand to stop him. "We can do one of two things. We can either fight or we can lie down and take it."

Another one of the Council members scoffed under her breath, her cloak fell from her face and revealed eyes of a deep and cutting violet. "And why should we believe you? You could be a traitor for Valentine for all we know."

"_The girl speaks only the truth."_

The doors to the study opened with a crash as one of the many Silent Brothers floated in. Well, it certainly looked like he was floating with the way his cloak hovered across the hard stone floors of the Institute as if he had no feet and simply glided across the room; his hood falling away from his face as he moved through the room. His bare head was laced with dark, inky runes so beautiful Clary could almost feel the tears in her eyes.

"Excuse my tone but you just got here, Brother Zachariah, you don't know the entire story." Aldertree said with more respect he had given to anyone in the room thus far.

"_Excuse my tone but I believe __**you **__do not know the entire story, Inquisitor." _ The Silent Brother coasted forward as if on a race track, his cloak didn't move from its spot at his side as he came forward as if he didn't move his feet at all. "_The girl articulates the truth, the angels have spoken."_

Aldertree blinked vigorously as he focused on Clary in bewilderment as if he couldn't believe of such a thing. "What do you mean the angels spoke?"

"_I mean what I say. The angels have passed along a vision, they speak through the girl. If we are to win the battle against Valentine, we are to listen to what she has to say. It was written in the stars long ago."_

Clary gasped as she looked to Brother Zachariah, who had not taken his eyes off of her as he spoke, with astonishment. She could see it flashing like an old movie before her eyes, the fallen bodies and the tarnished landscape. The sounds of screaming men and women, the screeching of creatures; she could still see the black ooze that descended from the snouts of jagged teeth and gapping mouths. The smell of rotten flesh, death and thick iron fell across the field; the blood that squished between her toes in the grass; congealing around her thighs as her knees fell to the ground.

Isabelle and Alec fighting for their lives, Max's dead carcass dragged from the woods.

And Jace's beautiful, pain stricken face cracking like fine china; bending, and breaking like he was being molded under hot fire.

_**It is your destiny, dear child. **_

It was her dream.

_**You will destroy the darkness upon this land, dear Clarissa. It was written in the stars long ago.**_

Her nightmare.

_**Do not let the boy go.**_

A vision.

_**His very creation will be his destruction.**_

* * *

"Will it happen the way I envisioned it?" Clary said softly afraid of the answer she knew all too well would come; she wiped her palms along the seam of her jeans before she twisted her fingers in her lap.

"_No. The future is never etched in stone." _Brother Zachariah answered as he moved closer to her, the runes upon his head seemed to darken the closer he got. "_We are the masters of our fate; you always have a choice. It is for you to choose what path you take."_

Clary looked at Brother Zachariah in an innocence and strength that he had not seen in years; not since a pair of soft grey ones like the color of a fermenting storm. Her green eyes glossed with unshed tears for a future that could be. "I can change it?"

"_If you wish."_ He answered softly in her mind as he moved even closer; the stitching upon his mouth was scarier up close. The thought made Clary blush with shame. "_Not all of the vision was truth; some is to be deciphered on its own."_

She sniffed loudly, inwardly cringing at the unfeminine sound, before wiping her nose against her shirt sleeve for good measure. "What do you mean?"

"_Tell me of your vision."_ He said ignoring what she said and taking a seat across from her in the silent room, his seemingly young hands laid calmly in his lap.

After Brother Zachariah had told Aldertree of what the High Angels in heaven had said the Council had burst into action, apologizing to Jocelyn in a hurried fashion as if all had changed just because some Angels had spoken through her daughter; which in retrospect was a huge deal. Her mother had been flustered by the entire situation as Luke moved slightly in front of her in a guard dog type manner. They scrambled together and hurriedly went back to alert of the war that was approaching, stopping only briefly to listen to Clary whisper where the war would take place.

Idris; just outside of Alicante.

She could remember her vision; remember the wooded area and the deep blue sky that had turned into a dark and churning black; the elegant hillside and the soaring strong towers that surrounded a beautiful glass city. She could remember the last spoken sentence the angels had whispered into her mind.

_**On the fifth sun of the eighth month he will come. **_

_**You must prepare; you must be ready.**_

In three days, Valentine would come.

And she was not in the least bit prepared.

She wasn't ready.

She was scared.

Clary took a deep breath before focusing down on Brother Zachariah's surprisingly unwrinkled hands that didn't move an inch throughout the telling of that night so many nights ago. The words seemed to flow like a stream, her heart beating promptly as if she were truly reliving the experience again. The adrenaline was in her veins, pumping her lips to talk faster and get the story told quicker. The air that entered her chest was thicker and her lungs screamed out for more as if she wasn't getting quite enough oxygen. She pushed her mind to recall everything; from the feeling of her hands as they shined from the lights off her cloak with wet crimson to the figure that stood in the blazingly bright sky.

She lay against the base of her chair, the arms of the seat being ripped apart by her pacing fingernails. Her chest was heaving as a cold sweat broke out on her skin. She couldn't let it happen; she couldn't let them die.

But what could she do? How could she stop it?

She groaned and let her head fall to her knees, why couldn't anyone ever be straight forward with her? Why did it always have to be cryptic? Why couldn't they give her a clear sign like "Hey, guess what? There's gonna be a war and everyone's basically going to die if you don't stop Valentine by doing a square dance with a werewolf high on ecstasy. Good luck!"

Something that had an answer to what she should do; something that had a solid solution. If she needed to give up her life for them so be it. She would die for them in a heartbeat; her family.

"_You are the cloak, my dear girl."_

"What?" Clary asked her head still buried in her denim covered knees.

"_The golden cloak which gave you light, that is inside you, Clarissa Morgenstern."_

Blinking Clary peeked up at Brother Zachariah, who looked like he would be smiling if he could, the skin around his eyes crinkling with joy as if he had watched her grow and was enjoying watching her blossom. "I don't . . . understand."

"_You have a light inside you, Jocelyn's daughter; one that you must use to light the darkness."_

Clary flinched against the name he called her. Jocelyn's daughter . . . no one had ever called her that before. She liked the empowerment it gave her; because she was truly Jocelyn's daughter. "But how do I do that?"

"_When the time comes you will know."_

Clary had to hold back the groan of resentment she felt for the encrypted sentence before she gratefully nodded at the Silent Brother, who had come to her aid and pushed her family from the room to talk with her privately earlier. She owed him for more than she knew. Her eyes followed him to the door as he went to leave, having no idea how he had known to arrive in the first place.

"Thank you." Clary said as she found her voice again.

"_It is not me, you should be thanking; but I, who should be thanking you."_ The Silent Brother said as he turned away from the door and back to her, his unexpectedly not weathered and unwrinkled hand upon the door's handle.

Clary shook her head confusion. She felt like she found herself usually confused whenever the Silent Brother's talked to her. "Why thank me? I haven't even done anything?"

"_But you will."_ He looked at her with a sincere gaze of affection. _"You will do great things, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, you will see."_

And without another word, he floated out the door just as gracefully and as silently as he had came.

"So, no pressure." She said in a low tone as the door closed behind him.

* * *

That night, Clary sat with her hands on her head; the clock beside her bed blinked the time at her.

_2:45 am_

It had been two days, technically three, since her nightmare vision; she could feel the black despair take over her stomach eating away at its walls like poison, making her curl inward toward herself, her knees against her chest. Valentine always had the upper hand; she needed to catch him by surprise. She needed—

A soft knock sounded from the opposite side of her door. She sighed as she rolled to her feet, her heart twisting with guilt and betrayal. She knew Jace wanted to talk to her but she couldn't find her voice to speak. She was being stupid; she would lose him soon; be it from the war or her own stupidity. Knowing, she couldn't put off their talk any longer she pulled the door open with a flourish trying her best to stay optimistic even if it was just so he could tell her their relationship was all lies.

She blinked in surprise as she took in the voluptuous vision of Cleo, who stood in a night gown that could have been used as a handkerchief. Her nose stud, it was a cyan color to match her hair, sparkled in the light from Clary's room and her blue hair was vibrant under the fluorescent lights. It fell softly down to her shoulders as silky and clear as Caribbean water.

"Can we talk?" Her voice was harsh but her eyes seemed to being screaming for something else. Not to scold, but something intriguing. That was why Clary let her wordlessly into her room, not because she had somewhat asked nicely (not) or because she had asked at all but because her eyes had screamed that she was in need. That she had something important to say. And Clary found that she wanted to listen.

Cleo entered and stood uncomfortably in the middle of her room, her arms hugged her waist protectively as if Clary was going to attack her. The thought almost made her laugh as she closed the door and turned to the unexpected intruder.

"Okay. . ." Clary nodded before sitting on her bed slowly, her eyes never left Cleo as the beautiful girl looked restlessly around the room. She leaned on her mattress, brushing a lock of deep red hair behind her ear.

"You don't even care, do you?" Cleo let out a harsh laugh as she turned toward Clary, her churning hazel eyes looked at her with undisguised hatred. Maybe, Clary had been wrong; maybe all she wanted to do was yell and scream after all. "How silly of me, of course, you don't. You don't care for anything, but how could you? You are Valentine's daughter."

Clary sighed before putting her head down again for what seemed like the 30th time that day, she couldn't do this tonight. She still had to talk to Jace about everything that happened earlier and she knew that conversation alone would take all the energy right out of her. "Look, Cleo, I can't do this tonight. So if you've come to remind me of the man who helped give me life, I know. I see him every day: in my dreams, in my thoughts, in the mirror." She stood up from where she sat, the days trials already having utterly exhausted her; she pulled her hair away from her face before blowing out a deep breath. "You're not going to say anything I haven't heard or thought before." She gave Cleo a weak smile before she motioned for her door. "So, if this is all, then please leave."

Cleo smirked at her surly, a feeling of frost settled over Clary's body like a chill. "Everything is about you, isn't it? Oh, poor Clary, she's hurting. She feels abandoned. People were mean to her." She said in a mocking voice as she stepped toward her; Cleo easily stood over Clary but she wouldn't give her the satisfaction of backing down. She stood like she thought her mother would; with her head held high and both her eyebrows slight cocked because she couldn't, for the life of her, lift one up. "God, that's all I've heard since you got here. Clary, Clary, Clary, CLARY!" She yelled her hands pulling at her dyed blue strands.

"You know, I hated you the moment I saw you." Cleo continued, her hands shaking at her sides, Clary flinched at her words; feeling them in the pit of her stomach like a knife. "And now you're going to let them die for you."

Clary shook her head; not willing to let the images of her dream come back into her mind. "No, I won't. I'll protect them—"

"How? When they're so busy protecting you?" Cleo spit back as she walked forward; Clary could feel herself crumbling. She was breaking and Cleo was getting the upper hand. "You're so selfish. You'll just let them fight for you; fight a losing battle." She curled up her pouty lip in revulsion; Clary could practically feel the loathing emitting from her scandalously covered body. "You don't deserve them, you know. They would do anything for you and this is how you repay their love and devotion? You'll just let them die; you're just as bad as **he** is."

Clary didn't need her to elaborate who "he" was. She knew, all too well, who Cleo was talking about. But it wasn't true . . . right? She was better than he was, Jace had said so. He had told her he loved her . . . but he had also evaded telling her of his relationship to her father. He had lied now, what's to say he hadn't lied then?

She could see Max running into the dark woods; she watched his hair bounce and blow back in the harsh wind, his glasses falling from his face as he charged forward. His fear drove him faster, his determination kept him running. His hand was fisted around his army figure, that Jace had given him so long ago, tightly drawing blood down his palm. She knew all too well what would happen; he would come back but limp. He would be dragged by the teeth of a creature; too young to die and too young to live.

She wouldn't be their death; she couldn't.

_**Do not let the boy go.**_

She could see Isabelle clenching her arm, the gash that ran down the length of it was red and snarling; no doubt, infected. Her skin a pasty white under the dark moon as she continued to fight; her shining gold whip lashed out as demons surrounded her. Alec stood loyally at her side, blood and black ooze fell from the wound torn through his torso; his shirt was long forgotten about as he let arrow after arrow go before abandoning even that and slashing with the blade on his thigh. She knew what would happen before it did; they would fall. Demon's overpowering them; she could hear the crunching of bones as they turned to dust, the piercing scream that could only be Isabelle's as the creatures ripped and pulled. Until nothing would be left, just pieces and crimson.

She could see Valentine's demented grin, taking up his whole face; his white hair whipping in a powerful wind full of darkness and blood. She could feel death creeping up, like a disease, across her body as she looked beyond her father and stared into the face of the only man she ever loved. Jace watched her; his eyes wide with fear and shaking. Every tremble broke another piece of himself off of him; his mouth was torn with grief as he screamed out for her. She could feel her heart breaking as his chest caved in; as he shattered like delicate glass.

She could see Valentine's demonic smile.

_**His very creation will be his destruction.**_

She got it now.

_I'll make it right, _Clary thought to herself_._

There could be no one else. She had been trying to think of what she had to do this whole time, the solution to her dream, to the entire war; and because of Cleo, it came to her. Like a shot of lightning, it blazed through her mind like a fire that could not be stopped.

"_We are the masters of our fate; you always have a choice. It is for you to choose what path you take."_

_I'll make it right, _She thought again. It made her feel better the more she said it.

She could stop her dream. Brother Zachariah had given her the key right there and she had been too blind to see it. The solution was easy; she could save them all. She could keep them safe.

_**It can only be you; it is your destiny, dear child.**_

_I'll make it right._

"You don't deserve them." Cleo spit from where she stood by Clary's doorway; her stance wavered as she watched the small red head with curiosity as she replied.

_I'll make it right._

"I know." The tears flowed freely from Clary's eyes; she hadn't even known she had been crying as she watched Cleo frown before leaving, the door shutting behind her.

She knew what to do.

She would keep them all safe.

She had to.

* * *

She took a breath as she raised her fist to the door in front of her; it was late and she didn't truly expect him to be awake but she would try anyway. Before her fist could even come down on the door a second time, it swung open so fast her brain still hadn't caught up to her body to defend herself when Jace tugged her into his room by her wrist.

"I know you're upset I didn't tell you about Valentine." He spoke fast as if he thought he might only have this one moment and he was going to use it for all it was worth. The thought that he cared so much made her warm inside as she watched his lips move a mile a minute, talking faster than she had ever seen him. "And you have every right to be, I should have told you. But just like the fact that being his child doesn't make you who you are; being raised by him doesn't make me who I am either. I am the way I am because of the Lightwoods, not some man who held the same amount of affection for me as someone would discarded gum stuck to their shoe." He gently pushed her down on his bed and kneeled in front of her; his head slightly lower than her own. "I'm the Shadowhunter I am today because of those experiences, yes, but I'm the person I am today because I _lived_ through them. Just like you." He said finally taking a breath as Clary blinked quickly. "I love you; I want to be with you every day and when I'm not, I feel like I should be. You're all I think about; all I want to dream about. You're everything, Clarissa. You're the moon, stars. You're my reason to breath, to live; you're my reason. You're my reason for anything."

He finished with a flapping of his arms as Clary watched him rub the back of his neck in nerves. Never once had she seen Jace nervous until this moment; never seen him afraid until right now. He was afraid to lose her; just as much as she was him.

How could she have doubted for a second that he didn't love her? Right now, the very fact she even assumed such a thing seemed absurd. She felt foolish; in her room she had realized it didn't matter if he lied. She loved him more than she cared for the truth, which wasn't the right frame of thinking at all but she didn't care. None of it mattered without him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" He said in a desperate tone, his gold eyes were wide and vulnerable; his hair was a tousled mess of loops and curls around his head as if he had run his fingers through it countless times, something she knew he did when he was stressed. "You're killing me here, baby."

Clary felt the smile take over her face before she remembered telling her brain to do the action. She watched him breathing; his black t-shirt did nothing to hide the body she knew was packed with muscle from view; her eyes gazing at the fast beat of his pulse. "So," She started as he leaned forward giving her his whole attention. "The Lightwoods are to blame for your cocky, arrogant and sarcastic attitude?"

Jace stared at her for a second in a daze before he laughed, almost out of bewilderment. "I just professed my undying love and that's all you have to say?" Jace closed his eyes as he rocked back on his heels and rested his back against the wall beside his bed; leaning his head back, and closing his eyes. "Just when I thought I couldn't love you more; you say things like that." He spoke softly, almost absentmindedly, before he looked back at her, his smile wide and his chipped tooth on show. His defined chin was darkened with shadow and Clary knew if she ran her fingertips along his face it would feel rough against her skin. "You always surprise me, you know that?"

"Yes." Clary nodded as she walked toward him, straddling his waist and wrapping her arms around his neck, trying and failing to lace her fingers through each gold strand of hair on his head. "I don't care about what happened before. None of that matters to me."

"It doesn't?" Jace said weakly as his hands tightened around her waist as if she would change her mind and bolt. What he didn't understand was that she couldn't. She was in far too deep to go back now. All she could see was Jace; all she could see was gold.

"No." She whispered shaking her head.

"So you didn't come to break up with me?" Jace said with an eyebrow raised.

Clary let her hands fell to his chest with a laugh. "By the Angel, no!" She said as Jace tightened his hold, his curls brushing her forehead as she lightly pushed them back. "I could never leave you, Jace Lightwood. Sometimes I feel like I might not be able to breathe without you. How could I give up the one thing that makes me feel like this?" She said as she took his hand and placed it over her rapidly beating heart. "How could I leave the only man I could ever love? You're it for me, Jace. It doesn't matter what happened in the past; I don't care about what happened before. I want to focus on now, just right now." She shrugged as she looked up at him with as much love as she could muster; he would never know how much she needed him; how much she cared. So, she would spend every day showing him.

After she completed her mission.

2 days, that's all she had.

She shrugged as fresh tears fell from her eyes as she bit her lip as brushed the lingering blonde curls away from his cheeks. "You're my reason, Jace Lightwood. You're my reason for anything."

Jace didn't need to speak after that as he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her. His rugged cheek scratched against her face as she dug her nails into his shoulder blades; both trying frantically to get closer and knowing they would never get close enough. They kissed with all the love either of them could possibly gather together. She could feel it in every soft touch and caress and she made sure he could feel it too. He needed to know how much he was to her.

She couldn't lose him, not any of them.

She wouldn't.

* * *

She watched the rise and fall of his chest; the look of pure bliss on his face. After he had kissed her, he had held her tightly all through the night; not letting go once to let her shift positions. She hadn't minded; knowing what she had to do in the morning plagued her mind as she pulled out of the warm bed. Jace frowned for a moment and seemed to grasp for her before leaving his hand outstretched toward her.

How badly she wanted to get back in and lay down with him. How badly she wanted to have him wake up beside her and to have him smile at her every day. To see his freshly tousled hair and lazy smile; but after this she would have a lifetime of it.

If she lived.

She planned to live.

She closed her eyes and etched this scene in her mind; his lips still hot on hers and his arms still tight around her waist as if she could disappear into air. She would hold on to this image and keep it close. It would be her ticket to home; it would be her way back to him.

With a sigh, Clary walked through the Institute knowing it was dangerous to check on everyone's sleeping forms before she left but doing so anyway. To give her peace of mind; to make it harder to leave, she wanted to turn back but knew she couldn't. This was for them; for all of them.

She left her farewell note on the kitchen table before she shuffled out into the cold dawn. She didn't have much time to waste as she pulled out her stele and etched her rune into the stone wall, pausing only a moment to look over her shoulder.

* * *

Max Lightwood woke first; he was always to first to wake up, besides Jace, but he found his older brother stayed in bed longer now as he waited for his girlfriend to wake up too.

But that was okay, Max liked Clary fine. Actually, he liked her a lot. She was nice and pretty. She was like the nice older sister he always wanted if he didn't count Isabelle but she wasn't always nice.

He shuffled into the kitchen doe-eyed and sleepy. His hair stuck up in tuffs that his mother would smooth down when she wake up. Jocelyn would make him breakfast as Luke bounced him on his knee before his dad came down and sat with him to eat. It was his usually morning routine. He hoped he could convince Clary to go to the comic book store down the street; she was usually the only one who took him. And sometimes Jace went too; he liked those times the best.

Walking toward the table he hoisted himself up to try and get to the top shelf of the highest cupboard; Clary told him that's where Luke kept all the treats and he wanted to see for himself what was up there. He was in the mood for a morning cookie. He glanced confusingly at the piece of paper that stuck to the bottom of his foot and almost made him slip.

He pulled it off and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he carefully read the first sentence of the slightly crumbled letter, slowly sounded out the words like his mother taught him to before he gasp.

"MOM!" Max yelled as he ran as fast as his little legs could take him.

* * *

Clary sighed as she rubbed her sore elbow; she still wasn't very good at portaling. She managed to make the portal fine; it was the landing she could never stick. She pushed herself ungracefully to her feet and pulled the strap of her bag higher up her shoulder as she looked at the fresh green hillsides and one of the bluest sky's she had ever seen. In the distance she could make out the top of one of the glass towers that surrounded the city of Alicante.

She was here. She had made it.

Idris.

This was the first step; Valentine was always a stride ahead of them, Clary decided to even up the odds. Valentine wouldn't come for her, she was coming for him. She had run ahead and now he was the one behind. She wouldn't give him time to catch up before she killed him. This was the only way to ensure that they would all stay safe. This was the only way she could guarantee they would all live. There was only the possibility of losing her own life now; she liked it better this way.

It _was_ better this way.

She closed her eyes and envisioned Jace; his crooked smile and chipped tooth, his mess of curly hair and his chiseled features. She would get her strength from him. She didn't plan to live, but she also didn't plan to die alone.

Valentine would fall.

She would make sure of it.

The thought comforted her as much as the piece of drawn paper—which she had grabbed from the desk in her room—,which was folded in her back packet, did.

* * *

"What do you mean she's gone?" Jocelyn yelled as Maryse handed her the totally crumbled note.

"I mean exactly that; she's gone."

Jocelyn shook her head as her eyes ran over the letter before her; her pupils glossed over the words until they were jumbled and blurred in her vision. This letter was filled with lies; Clary wouldn't run away, not after they had made a family here. "This isn't true."

"She's not anywhere in the Institute." Robert said with a shake of his head; Isabelle came out of her room at a stumble, her mini shorts and t-shirt seemed odd looking and somewhat sophisticated on her.

"What's got all your panties in a knot?" She said half-heartedly with a yawn before looking at the seriousness on all their faces. "Whoa, who else died?"

"Do you know where Clarissa is?" Jocelyn asked in a frenzy as she clenched onto the young girl's shoulders, giving her a slight shake.

"Hands off, Morgenstern. I just woke up; give a girl some space to breath." Isabelle said her voice cracked making her sentence less than courageous as she looked at Jocelyn in bewilderment.

"Clarissa! Where is she?" Jocelyn said again, sounding more desperate than before and ignoring Isabelle's rudeness altogether.

Isabelle shrugged. "I would guess her room."

Maryse put a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder and the older women seemed to crumble beneath it; leaning on her friend for comfort something Isabelle had never thought she would ever see Jocelyn do. She was practically the definition of independence. "She doesn't know, Jocelyn."

"Know what?" Isabelle asked faking a bored look but inside her heart fluttered with curiosity.

"Clary's gone." Max said in a small voice as he looked down at the figurine he held in his hand, a frown on his face as if wondering why it had come from.

Isabelle felt a jolt go through her body but let her face remain emotionless as she looked at her mother; Maryse's usually hard blue eyes were soft with remorse. "What do you mean Clary's gone?"

Maryse sighed before taking the letter Jocelyn had dropped from her grip and onto the floor and gave it to her daughter. "See for yourself."

Isabelle brought the paper close to her face and read quickly, feeling her heart break with each word that was written.

_Dear Family,_

_I'm sorry I left so selfishly, but saying goodbye to all of you would have been too hard. I thought of leaving you each a letter but it would have taken too long and I would have talked myself out of leaving by then. So, I wrote it all down at once._

_I never felt like I really belonged anywhere before. I've been to a lot of Institute's, all of which, were the same. The either rejected me all together or took me in just so they could degrade the daughter of Valentine. _

_I thought with all of you it would be no different._

_You all proved me so wrong._

_You were patient with me when I was being stubborn, waited for me when I needed time, but most of all you gave me the chance to be myself instead of seeing only the monster that everyone else did. For that, I could never thank you enough but I'll give it a shot._

_So, I'd like to thank you, Robert, for teaching me that to give to someone even something small is worth the world._

_Thank you, Maryse, for giving me a home to which I could grow and blossom; to be the person I am now._

_Thank you, Mother, for never giving up on me when the road got tough and chaotic._

_Thank you, Luke, for being the father I needed when the world had been unkind._

_Thank you, Alec, for being patient with all of my training lessons; for teaching me that loyalty can be one of the strongest bonds of friendship._

_Thank you, Max, for giving me back my innocence and to see the goodness in the world._

_Thank you, Cleo, for showing me the truth when I didn't wish to see it for myself._

_Thank you, Isabelle, for being my dearest friend, for showing me that the world isn't full of blood and deceit; for giving me hope._

_And last but never least, thank you, my dear Jace, for showing me how to feel. For being my wings so that I could fly and for being the arms to catch me when I fell. Thank you for opening up a world of magic; a dazzling place of devotion and affection; thank you for teaching me how be too loved and how to love in return._

_Please, don't forget me when I'm gone. I have every intent on coming home. _

_So, goodbye but only for now._

_I love you all so much,_

_Clary_

_Tell Cleo I'll make it right._

There was something off about this letter. There was a foreboding element about it that made Isabelle want to crumble it up and throw it away.

It had a certain forever-ness about it. Something that implied that though the words said she would be back, she wouldn't.

The paper dropped from her hands and fluttered to the floor as she watched Jace's door swing wide open. She could see his mouth open but couldn't hear what he said above the ringing in her ears. The smirk on his face told her all she needed to know; he had no idea Clary was gone.

His amused eyes dropped to the note on the floor before he frowned and looked beyond her shoulder to where Jocelyn stood leaning against Maryse. The words he said sounded as if he were under water. "Where's Clary?" It was like hearing someone talk in slow motion; all Isabelle could do was point as Jace followed her hand and picked up the note gently.

He brought his stunned gaze back up to hers. Isabelle felt her mouth move but she couldn't get it to be louder than a whisper.

"She's gone."

* * *

**Review please. And be kind!**

**Oh, and READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE TOP!**


	3. Part Two: The End

**Here it is, Ladies and Gentleman! The final chapter of Clary's story. **

**This is the Final Part of The End.**

**I own nothing!**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

She knew she should continue to walk but her feet were tired and she had walked for hours it seemed. The city was slightly bigger but not by much as she climbed the nearest tree and lodged in it; taking a sip from the water in her backpack and a nibble off her granola bar. She had to portal farther away from the city; she knew if she had portaled too close without permission she would have gotten rejected by the wards around the city and dispersed somewhere else.

She couldn't afford to waste that much time; they would figure it out soon enough. She knew they would and they would come for her, there wasn't a doubt in her mind about it. She hoped to have finished her mission by then.

She needed to keep going. Her heart knew where he was; the angels were leading her, she knew. All she had to do was follow her instincts. Sighing, she hopped out of the tree and trudged onward. Wanting nothing more than to just go home and lie in bed with the man she loved.

* * *

They all sat around the table; Jace and Luke paced on either side. Cleo still hadn't woken up but the thought of her knowing where Clary was, was more far-fetched than an iguana doing the splits. They stared at the paper that sat tauntingly in the middle of the round table. Even Alec, who had gotten attached to Clary himself, seemed shaken up by her disappearance.

Clary had united them; she was their common goal. Maybe, it was mean to say but she had been their project. She had come to them broken and they had been intent on fixing her. And it seemed that now that they had, she had taken off and left; stealing with her all the love they had to offer. As the shock began to fade, Isabelle found she resented Clary,

Maybe, Cleo had been right. Maybe, Clary was only using them; she didn't really need them, not with all her so called "gifts". She had made them love her and then she had left; as if they were nothing. Isabelle felt her heart thicken; she should have never trusted that lost and broken look in her green eyes. She should have known she was a liar, just like her father.

Isabelle felt numb and used as she stared at the letter wanting nothing more than to shove Clarissa's lies right back down her throat.

"Something isn't right." Jace said again as he followed it with same sentence he had been repeating for the last hour. "She wouldn't just leave."

He was blinded by his love; he didn't see the devil in her but Isabelle did, she knew. "Yeah, well, she did." Isabelle answered curtly as Jace stopped his movements, Luke stopping too.

"No, she loves all of you. She built a life here—" Luke started but Isabelle cut him off.

"Yeah, just like she built a life at all her other Institutes too." Isabelle said as she turned in her seat to glare at her adopted brother even though he hadn't been the one to speak. Why couldn't he just see what she had done? Why couldn't he just see that she used them all?

Jace stopped and glared back at her. "If you really believe that than you don't know her well at all."

"No, I do know her." Isabelle shot out of her seat; she had to tell him. He had to see reason, to understand. "She needed something from us so she took it. She took all of what we had to offer and then she ran just like her father."

Jace scowled and narrowed his eyes, his hands forming fists at his sides and his hair a tousled mess. Maryse stood from her seat and spoke calmly and softly. "Both of you stop—"

"You need to wake up and see that she is just like everyone else; cold and deceptive. You're blinded by a love that was only one sided. New for you, isn't it, Heartbreaker?" Isabelle said as she put her hands on her hips.

"You don't know anything about what Clary and I have. So, don't pretend you do." Jace said around clenched teeth, his eyes ablaze with rage.

"Now that's enough out of both of you!" Maryse raised her voice as her hands slammed down on the table. Jocelyn had stood from her seat, no doubt, to come to her daughter's rescue as a frown set on her face.

"What's going on?" A small voice carried from the hallway as the group turned to look. Cleo stood uncertainly in the corridor. She had a robe to cover her revealing sleepwear underneath, which Isabelle was happy for, no one needed to see Cleo's goodies. The blue-haired girl frowned at the tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that surrounded her family. "What's wrong?"

Isabelle smiled at Cleo warmly for the first time in what seemed like forever. "You were right. We never should have doubted you."

Cleo blinked in a fluster fashion before she confusingly looked back at Isabelle. "What are you talking about, Izzy?"

"Clary. You were right about her."

"No, she wasn't." Jace growled his hands clenched at his sides and his eyes blazed with an unquenched fire.

"Yes, she was." Isabelle countered, looking back at Cleo. "She's nothing, but a deserter. She's no better than Valentine."

"Isabelle!" Maryse said as Jocelyn stood again from her seat.

"I think there is a large difference between slaughtering and deceiving hundreds of people and simply running away." Jocelyn spoke in a clear voice, more like herself than before.

"Is there?" Isabelle said as she turned to look at the Queen of hearts; Jocelyn had always looked untouchable to Isabelle. Like she was perched on a higher throne than Isabelle could ever be, but looking at her now Isabelle found that she looked nothing like she usually did. Her usually smooth curls were wildly knotted around her head, her pink robe looked motherly and like it was a tad too big for her; she looked human. The great Jocelyn Morgenstern looked vulnerable and broken. She seemed just like any normal, panicked mother; her eyes were wide and scared. "Because they both involve hurting people; they let people love them," She said looking at her mother, who closed her eyes in shame at her own past. One that involved the very man she so desperately wished to obliterate. "They make you trust them and then they destroy you." She said with her hands clamped down hard on the wooden tabletop; her fingertips curling around the table's edge. "Didn't you call _him_ "friend" once too?"

There was a tense silence as Jace glared at Isabelle in furious rage, his arms shaking with fear more than anger if he was to be honest. Cleo glanced confusedly around the room; not at all on the same page as everyone else.

Alec was the first to speak. "Not everyone is like Meliorn, Isabelle."

She snapped her attention over to where her brother sat; betrayal etched on her face. She could understand Jace's clouded mind, his feelings for the lying red head were too strong to convince but Alec wasn't in love with Clary. He had been her friend, just as Isabelle had. Was she truly the only one who saw reason?

And why, on God's green earth, did he have to bring that man up!

"I know that." Isabelle muttered, giving a lot of thought to just leaving the room now before the situation could get any worse.

"Do you?" Alec asked softly.

"Yes!" Isabelle yelled as she slammed her hands down on the table; Max jumped in his seat before flinching away. She felt her heart break a little bit at the sight of Max as he pushed away from Isabelle and walked to where Jace stood. The small boy reached for his hand, seeking the comfort he craved and Jace let him take it, pulling his little brother in front of his legs and crossing his arms over his small body.

"Clary isn't like Meliorn; he left because . . . " Jace looked up at her before trailing off, knowing he wasn't mean enough to bring up her past. Not one so filled with pain and damage; it had taken Isabelle a long time to heal after that and he wouldn't dare take her back there, into that darkness and loneliness. No matter how mad he was at her. "Just because she's gone doesn't make them the same, Izzy."

"What?" Cleo answered her eyes wide as Jace glanced back at her, completely forgetting she had been standing there at all. "Clary's gone?"

Robert sighed, speaking for only the second time that morning as he looked over at his flustered niece. "Yeah; she just upped and vanished. She left a note and everything."

Cleo rushed toward the table in a frenzy making Isabelle frown at her actions. Why was she so worried? Why did she have that look of guilt on her face? None of it made sense to her as she watched Cleo's eyes frantically scan over the incriminating letter. Isabelle never knew she could actually hate an object before but she did. She hated that letter.

"By the Angel." Cleo whispered her hand going to her mouth in horror.

"Yep," Isabelle answered. "She left; just like that."

"But why?" She said as she placed the letter delicately back down on the table as if it were too fragile to set down any other way.

"Oh, we know why." Jace said in a sarcastic tone, his eyes blazing with a fire; his fear fueling his cruelty. "We all just wanted to gather around the table and talk about where Clary's gone to; it's almost like a game, want throw in your own assumption; we've already got a few." He answered back, harshly and snidely knowing she didn't truly deserve it but unable to stop himself anyway.

"She left, what more is there to know?" Isabelle said as Jace shot her another look.

"Why she did it, perhaps? Because that question has been rattling around in my head all morning." Jace answered back sarcastically, his hold on Max tightening. "And don't try and pretend it hasn't ran through yours either."

To that Isabelle had nothing to say, that had, in fact, been running through her mind. It had been going through everyone's mind she was sure. Why would Clary, the once recluse turned social butterfly, run from them? She had been more than happy to have made herself a place here, a home. Thinking rationally, Isabelle knew her disappearance didn't make much sense, but she didn't want to think sensibly. She wanted to wallow in her sadness and self-pity of losing her best friend. She didn't want to think logically, she wanted to be unreasonable.

"She couldn't have . . . no, that couldn't be . . ." Cleo muttered to herself as she ran a hand through her sleek, straight hair.

Robert sighed and pushed away from the table, his head low on his shoulders. "As much as I wish we could find Clary, we can't. We have bigger things to worry about, Valentine will gather his army tomorrow and the Clave has sent out a warning. They need as many soldiers as they can get." He said his eyes on Luke, who held his gaze before giving him a nod.

"I'll gather my pack for the fight."

"What?" Jocelyn said looking at her husband with disbelief. "We have to look for her! It isn't safe for her to be out there!"

Luke put his hands on his wife's shoulders; his brown eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "Clary is a smart girl; she would never do something this rash without a reason." He sighed. "We're just going to have to trust this reason, whatever it may be."

Cleo sucked in a deep breath as her body hunched over the tabletop. She brought her gaze up to Robert's frightfully for only a moment; her eyes showing a deep fear before she focused it upon the sturdy table, never looking up. Almost as if they would see the truth in her eyes. "Did anyone check the weapons room?"

"What?" Jace asked finding his voice after what Luke said.

"Did you check the weapons room?"

Robert shook his head, looking at his niece with concern. "No, why would we—"

"Check it." Cleo said as she bit her plump lip and look up at her Uncle. "Go, please." She whispered as Robert gave her a nod before walking stiffly from the room; his large, burly shoulders were tense as he exited the uncomfortable dining area. "I talked to Clary last night."

Isabelle frowned before exchanging a glance with Alec, who had stood from his seat in wonder. His blue eyes, like Maryse's, seemed to be trying to unlock the secrets in the seemingly frail blue-haired girl's mind. "Yeah, so?"

"I . . ." Cleo started before choking on her next breath. "Well, I . . .we . . ." She took a deep breath that came in shaky and out just as it went in. "I told her that she was like Valentine. I yelled at her." Cleo whispered in the silent room as Jocelyn stared deep into the young girl's skin, willing her to look up, to see the pain she had caused. "I told her she was going to get you all killed; that she didn't deserve you."

"You what?" Jace said his voice was toneless and his face was blank in an eerie calm. His eyes told everyone what they needed to know; he was on the brink of breaking.

"I was just mad." Cleo looked up at him pleadingly wanting him so desperately to understand. "I was just so jealous. She had everything _I _wanted; everything _I _deserved." Cleo closed her eyes and shook her head. "At least, I thought I deserved it. But I don't." She swallowed hard as she squeezed her eyes together more. "You want to know the worst part?" She didn't wait for them to answer. "She just stood there. She stood there and she let me degrade her, beat her dignity, her pride." Cleo looked at the people surrounding the table; she looked at Jocelyn straight on. She expected the woman to judge her, to be furiously mad but she wasn't. She looked like she pitied Cleo and that was far worse. "And then she agreed with me. She kept saying . . ."

She trailed off as Robert ran into the room; his well kept hair was falling across his forehead like his son's. It made him looked like an older version of Alec. His warm brown eyes were frantic as they landed on Cleo before surveying everyone else in the cold room. "Two of our seraph blades are missing, along with three daggers and Clary's stele."

"Why would weapons be missing?" Maryse said standing from her seat and looking toward her husband.

"She took them." Maryse looked back at her niece, who hunched her body back over the table again. In her hand, she clenched onto the letter that looked like a sacred jewel. "Clary did."

"Why would Clary—"

"She went after Valentine." Cleo answered before she could ask. Jocelyn sucked in a deep breath as she slumped against Luke, who frowned and shook his head as if the thought was too much to process. Jace stood with his eyes staring forward and his mouth gaping wide open; stock still like a well constructed statue.

"Why would Clary go after Valentine?" Maryse asked unbelieving; her eyebrow raised and her smile full of disbelief.

"Her dream." Jace whispered, his voice nothing more than a breath as Cleo met his eyes. "The vision."

"She kept muttering when I left that night," She answered as Jace met her eyes with his; they both knew. "She said "I'll make it right"." Cleo answered as she handed the letter to Isabelle, whose anxious brown eyes scanned over the sentence at the bottom.

_Tell Cleo I'll make it right._

Isabelle watched the paper shake as if it was about to combust before she felt her legs give out; her brother caught her before she fell. Alec brought her close as his head rested against her hair, hushing her for reasons beyond her knowledge.

She wanted to demand to know why he was hugging her, they didn't hug; they were siblings but her throat wasn't working and her eyes kept fogging up. It wasn't until a small hand wiped at her cheek did she realize she was crying and that Alec was hugging her close because she was shaking. Max squatted in front of her, Jace beside him, as his small hands wiped her tears.

Clary had run.

Run, not from the war, but straight into it.

And Isabelle had doubted her.

Her heart felt like it might jump out of her chest and run to where her friend was. She could feel her fingertips curling like she was reaching out to touch her.

Clary had gone to fight Valentine,

A fight she was sure to lose.

* * *

The light shined lower in the sky, she could guess it was around the evening but not so late that it was dusk. The hues of bright orange and yellow lingered amongst the blue sky; still far in the distance the towers stood. Not as far as she originally walked but far enough. She could see the dense forest from where she stood at the top of the hillside. She knew she had to travel through that first to get to Alicante. It would be a dangerous journey, one she was scared to take alone but knowing it had to be this way all the same.

She had always wanted to go to Alicante, she had never been allowed. Her mother had been strict on that. When she was a child it had made her resent her mother slightly but as she grew she understood why. If she were to go to Alicante they would have treated her, just as the many Institutes' she had taken refuge in before, cruelly. With harsh words and callous tones; she would have had to fight against an entire town of people who thought she was a creature of darkness. She had barely survived the insults from a handful of people in an Institute, how could she have made it through that much hatred?

She couldn't have.

She closed her eyes and fought the tears that she knew waited anxiously behind her lids. She wanted so badly to just sob and give up. To head home and let the Council fight for their lives as best they could. Let the people who had belittled and hurt her fight for their lives against the very man who she had once fought against. But she couldn't; because it could only be her, because if she did that she would have left the Lightwoods to the same fate.

Cleo had been right, she didn't deserve them.

But she was going to spend every day trying to.

* * *

The adults had pushed the children from the room even Alec, who had come of age to listen to such important meetings, had been booted. They knew what they were discussing, it wasn't hard to figure out but why send them out now? When they hadn't been excluded when the Inquisitor was here or early about their discussion of Clarissa?

It didn't make much sense to kick them out now.

They all stared at the door waiting for it to open; Isabelle, Alec, Jace and Max (who sat precariously on both Jace's and Alec's lap, more so Jace's than Alec's) sat smashed together on one couch while Cleo had been ostracized to the other. To say they were upset would have been an understatement. Even Alec, who had been close but never that close with Clary, sat with his arms crossed, glaring at her every now and then. Jace hadn't brought his gaze back to hers since in the kitchen, at least, an hour ago. And every time she looked at Isabelle she saw the anger that resigned on her expression. It was well deserved she knew but it hurt all the same.

She watched Jace as his gold eyes, like pralines, stared deep into the door's wood as if he could make it burst into flame purely from his mind. His sharp jaw was clenched and she knew he was grinding his teeth together.

Cleo had never seen Jace with that look in his eyes like he was slowing falling apart; all because of one girl, one special girl. At one time, Cleo thought she might have been that girl but she hadn't been. She had thought Clary was simply in the way, that she was just a new toy Jace had to play with and get rid of. So, she waited; soon days turned to weeks and weeks to months. She had watched as Jace fell in love with the girl with the crimson hair and the bright green eyes.

And now she watched as Jace's so well kept shield shattered all for the same girl.

Cleo had to turn away because it was too heartbreaking to watch. As if on cue the door swung open and Robert and Luke walked into the room where the teens sat tensely perched. As if they were waiting for the final verdict; like they were waiting for an answer.

"It's been decided that we will travel to Alicante, the best way to stop Clary is to beat her to the finish line." Robert said as Jace shot out of his seat, Max almost flying forward into the glass table that separated the two couches as Alec scooped him into his lap. "Luke and his pack with cover the perimeter and Jocelyn, Maryse and I will go into the city."

"But she's not going to Alicante—" Cleo said standing as well.

"It's been decided."

"So, basically you've decided to do nothing." Jace said as he crossed his arms and smirked. "Because that's all that plan will accomplish. Nothing."

He knew, just as Isabelle did, why Robert was going to Alicante, to talk with the Council. This had nothing to do with Clary and all to do with Valentine.

Robert squeezed his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he sighed. "It's been decided." He repeated as if that would help.

"Yes," Jace said with a raised eyebrow. "So we've been told. We're disagreeing with you, Robert, not deaf."

Luke stepped in before Robert could say anything back, by the look of his tense shoulders and angry face, it couldn't have been good. "It's the best we can do for now."

"Your best isn't good enough."

Luke smiled at Jace warmly, having grown attached to the boy he wished to call son someday. "Yes, but it is what it is."

A looked of appreciation crossed Jace face as he regarded Luke. The older man looked strong and weak all at once. He didn't only talk of the easy side of things but also the hard, the difficult. Luke treated him like a man and for that he respected him.

"When are we leaving?" Isabelle asked from her seat by her brother, craning her neck to see around Jace's large body, who stood in her line of sight.

"You aren't." Robert said as he turned his back and walked toward the door, already dressed in Shadowhunter gear, he looked like a commanding officer; like a man to be held in high esteem.

All three teens jumped to their feet, Max was thrown back on the couch from the action. His glasses lay crooked on his nose as he watched his siblings all speak at once.

"But you can't do that!"

"It isn't fair!"

"Clary needs me!"

Robert simply held up a hand as Luke gave them a look of sympathy. "You will not be leaving. You will stay at this Institute and look after your brother. And you will not complain again."

"But I'm of age. The laws state that I can go to war—" Alec said but stopped when Robert shot him a look.

"And I am your father. And I am telling you to stay here."

They said nothing as Robert left the room; Luke gave them another sympathetic look before he nodded toward them, his eyes holding a certain mischievous sparkle, and left as well. They stood in silence for a moment; no one made a sound as they heard the door to the weapons room, no doubt, open and close. The quiet weighting on them like a heavy cloak.

"So," Isabelle said bringing their attention to her as she stood with her hands on her hips still wearing her pajamas from when she woke up. Her hair was smooth, if not slightly knotted, as she looked at them all in defiance. "When are we leaving?"

"After they've left," Jace answered looking at Alec. "I think I have an idea."

The two parabatai shared a smile that could only be described as devious.

"I think I know just what you mean." Alec said as he took out his phone, his fingers flying along the keys.

* * *

Clary took a deep breath as she descended the hillside, the sun having settled lower over the horizon.

This was it.

She could feel his demonic presence laying in wait in the dark forest below.

She was coming.

And something that settled with unease in her stomach told her he knew it.

* * *

Magnus Bane stood with his hands placed on his hips. The sparkly warlock had died the tips of his spiky hair red for the occasion of war as he regarded what his boyfriend, and his family, was telling him. The letter Clary, so quickly scribbled down, laid in his hand as his eyes looked over it closely; nodding every once in a while to show that he was paying attention to what they were saying.

"Well, this is just upsetting." He answered as a long silence filled the room.

"Tell me about it." Isabelle muttered as she took in the tall, sparklingly, handsome warlock who managed to looked incredibly good at any hour of the day.

"She didn't mention me in here once." He gave a large throw of his hands as Alec rolled his eyes. "It's practically offensive."

"Can you please focus?" Alec said as he stared affectionately at the only man he could ever love, wishing he had good sense to change out of his ratty pajama's before he had gotten here. "Do you think you can do it?"

Magnus looked at his boyfriend with a frown and a hand to his heart. "Of course, I can. Don't be absurd; I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn after all."

"I think he made that up." Jace whispered to Isabelle, who nodded in agreement, as Magnus threw them both a glare.

"Great!" Alec said clapping his hands together as he went in the direction of his room. "All we need to do now is change and grab some weapons and we're good to go."

"Yes and while we're at it we'll stop and pick up some party favors." Jace said with a smirk. "We're about to go to war, Alec, please sound like it." He finished turning in the direction of his own room as a slight blush worked its way across his brother's cheeks as he rolled his eyes.

Magnus stopped Alec with a soft hand to his chest. "I said I could, not that I would." Alec threw him a confused look as Magnus sighed and brought his hand to his hair as if he were going to run his hands through it but remembered that he had put loads of gel and hairspray in it earlier as they dropped to his sides like lead. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked his expression was almost agony as he spit the next words out. "I love Clarissa as much as you all but is she really worth it?"

Jace stopped, his hand clenching the door frame; his knuckles were white from the strain as he turned to glare at the concerned and guilty warlock before shaking his head. "If you loved her as much as you say you do, you wouldn't have asked that question."

"Of course she is." Isabelle answered in outrage, her voice raising a couple octaves as she did.

Alec shared a look with his boyfriend. "If it were any of us, she would do the same." He shrugged. "Besides, Jace will go with or without us and I'd like to keep him as safe as I can."

Magnus considered them all for a moment as he sighed, both in disappointment and relief. "Alright, meet here in 10 minutes. I'm sure that will give your parents enough time to settle in Idris and for me to portal you to Ragnor Fell's house."

"Ragnor Fell?" Alec said with a curious look on his face. "Who's that?"

Magnus sighed again, this time running a hand through his hair before ripping it out and cursing. "An old friend. He lives a couple miles out from Alicante, at least an hour walk or 20 minutes by horse." Jace nodded as he all but sprinted from the room. Isabelle and Cleo stood zipping up their black gear and adjusting weapon straps, having left long before Jace did. Alec turned to go but Magnus put a hand on his arm, squeezing slightly as if to make sure he was real. "Excuse my lack of faith but how do you plan to even find Clarissa?"

"That's easy." Isabelle said putting a brush on the glass table between the two couches, Alec slipped out while Magnus gave the striking girl his full attention. Carefully, she pinched her fingers around a dark red strand of curling hair. "It's not like I haven't done Clary's hair before. She might have destroyed most of her DNA here, but we can still track her with this."

Jace, who had entered right as Alec dashed out, looked at his sister appraisingly as they stepped toward and into the descending elevator, Max curled in front of his legs and Alec running to catch up as he zipped up the jacket of his gear. "That's a good idea. I was just planning on winging it."

Isabelle rolled her eyes before she handed the strand to Magnus. "Guys." She muttered under her breath before winking at the warlock and stepping out the elevator and out into the warmth outside. "Work your magic, beautiful."

"Oh, Isabelle." Magnus smirked before closing his eyes, his hands glowing with a bright blue light. "You know just what to say." He spoke as his eyes blazed a bright blue as if shining from the inside of his soul as a portal took form in the Institute's graveyard. He kissed Alec on the mouth quickly; the portal behind him flickered brighter at the action. "I'll see you soon."

"You're not coming with us?"

"Not quite," Magnus said as the light dulled from his eyes until they were cunning and sharp like a feline's again as he smirked at the group of Shadowhunters. "I have some calls to make first."

* * *

Luke paced outside of the glass structure. It was ridiculous that he wasn't allowed to enter. They were all allies weren't they? They should have been. The only way they could win against Valentine is if they banded together. Luke continued his pacing, his eyes scanning the hillsides for a small figure of the only daughter he had ever known. He had his two best pack members scanning for her arrival; and a lot of his other members laying in wait. He assumed she had entered the forest by now or was . . .

He couldn't think about an "or else" at the moment. His heart was leaping in fear as he surveyed faster, wishing he could hear her breathing, see her green eyes burning bright through the darkness that enveloped the dark woods around him.

How brave she was. Walking without a second thought to her death if it meant saving them; the sun was low in the sky as he continued to look over the silent hills. He wished they could have tracked her but she had destroyed all her lingering DNA from the room she had occupied. It was as if she hadn't lived there at all. Her paints and paintings were missing and her clothing gone; no jewelry or pictures. She had hidden them or destroyed them he was sure. None of the kids had anything of hers that they could have used, he had asked.

So, they were taking stabs in the dark hoping to catch something. But in reality he knew they would accomplish nothing. Just as Jace had said, but something in Luke's heart told him that if anyone were to find his brave daughter, it would be that equally brave boy.

* * *

Clary closed her eyes as she ventured onward, the feeling of impending doom settled around her like a heavy coat on a humid day. It was slowly suffocating her as she pushed herself onward; pulling back large plants and continually looking over her shoulder. She wanted to turn back. She wanted to go home.

But her dream/vision still played in her mind like a sad song; it ripped at her heart and made her stomach boil with fear.

Taking another breath, Clary tried to calm herself but found it to be one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. Her body wasn't listening as it quivered with chills; the feeling of crawling bugs taking over her skin making her feel cautious. It was like she could feel him; his scent was death. That was what was guiding her; the smell of blood and deceit, of pain and sorrow.

He was close; she could feel it.

* * *

Max slammed into Jace's back, who landed on top of Isabelle, who inevitably crashed onto Cleo's spine, who was crushing Alec.

They all shared a groan as they pushed and shoved the other off each spitting out their own profanity before yelling at each for saying such a thing in front of Max and so forth.

Isabelle held the tracker in her hand; it was a small device—it looked exactly like a compass— resembling nothing like she would have expected such a powerful tool to look like, as she pushed Jace's long legs away from her own and climbed painfully to her feet. Her freshly drawn runes gleamed in the glow of the fading sun.

"Well," Jace nodded as he rubbed the back of his head where Max had slammed his chest into him. "What does it say?"

"West." Isabelle said with a breath of relief, knowing where she was going was in itself a weight off her back. She needed her friend more than she knew and she intended on bringing her home, alive.

Jace nodded as he looked off toward the direction of the fading sun. "West." He whispered as a look of release fell over his face and Isabelle knew he was thinking the same thing she was. "West."

They trudged onward without another glance back.

* * *

Clary stopped a moment as the sound of a snapping branch sounded in her ear; she turned sharply before taking a cautious step forward; the sound repeating as Clary took off in a sprint. She shoved leaves out of her way and jumped over fallen logs as her boots dug into the soft earth. She broke through the foliage to a small meadow, peaceful and quiet. Wildflowers were sprawled along the grasses as more forest took up its opposite sides.

Taking a step back she turned and clenched her seraph blade tightly in her grip, her fingerless gloves helping to keep the perspiration from making her hold slip. Her heart was beating fast in her ears as her veins began to pump adrenaline. She stared with her eyes alert through the woods, making sure not one shadow could be seen.

"Tennin" She whispered the angel's name to the blade as it glowed a bright blue, coming to life in her grasp.

She could feel his approach like a rock in her throat, the feeling of doom wrapping around her heart like a vice and made it beat faster. The sound of another stick breaking to her left made her tense and leap, her blade held high above her head.

She stopped with barely enough time to retract her blade from cutting Cleo through her jugular. The girl let out a scream as she fell backwards onto her hands.

"Cleo?" Clary whispered wide-eyed as more black gear drifted from the woods much quieter than Cleo had been. "What are you doing?"

"I should ask you the same thing!" Cleo said, she had fallen to the ground in her fright and was currently grasping her neck. Her well endowed chest heaved as it pushed seductively against the black coat of her gear, making the cloth appear smaller and tighter than it was. "You almost killed me!"

"Yes, because I thought _you_ were going to kill _me_." Clary said with a smirk as she bent to lend Cleo a hand, who surprisingly, took it. "So, no hard feelings."

"Yeah, whatever, Morgenstern." Cleo smiled at her as Clary blinked in surprise and smiled back cautiously.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Isabelle said stomping forward, her hands perched on her hips.

Clary watched wide-eyed as Jace, Alec and Max formed from the darkness of the woods. Her heart took a nose dive as a groan escaped her throat. They'd come, which she knew they would, but she hadn't gotten rid of Valentine yet. This was all wrong; they weren't supposed to figure out where she had gone yet. She was supposed to save them, now here they all were.

In a place that felt like death and demise; that looked like a beautiful site but was filled with blood and gore. She felt herself frown before her eyes widened even larger. She knew this place; all too well. But before the sky had been black and the only sight that could be seen was from the glow of a golden cloak.

Everything was being woven together in a tightly stitched web.

**She** was the reason.

The reason they would perish.

It was her fault they would die; she was the reason they would suffer. She stumbled back several steps, entering out into the open meadow, shaking her head against the visions that bombarded her senses. The smell of rotten flesh and decay enveloped her nose.

She still had time, they had to run.

The feeling of warmth surrounded her like a hug as Jace gripped her gear covered arms; her seraph blade had been dropped in her realization. Her mouth dropped open as Jace gazed at her with a pure look of love; she knew soon that look would fade to grief as his heart shattered. As his body parts fell away in small pieces, cracking like glass.

His eyes searched her mind and she turned her head to keep her thoughts inside her brain. If he knew of what she was about to do he would stop her. All he had to do was kiss her, run his thumb along her lips, place his palm against her cheek and she would be a goner. All he had to do was whisper he loved her and she would change her mind and run with them. But she couldn't; she had to fight. For their sakes, she had too.

He hushed her before pulling her close, her head continuing to move back and forth vigorously shaking as her body trembled with fright. Not for her own safety at all; no, she feared for theirs. The feeling of death was closer now as she pushed away from him, the act caused a broken look to form on Jace's face. A look that cut too close to her heart.

"You have to run." She whispered the feeling of tragedy filling her stomach as her breath left her chest. Alec and Isabelle walked closer, their faces full of concern as they reached out to her.

Max tugged her arm softly as he looked up at her with his large doe eyes. "Clary?" She turned to look down at him, her eyes filling and spilling with tears all too quickly to process. She could see his body limp and unmoving, his tousled brown hair leaked with blood as he stared lifeless forward. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy to see us?"

Clary blinked as her lip quivered and a sob fell from her mouth. "No, I'm not happy to see you at all." She shook her head as Max blinked himself, his hopeful face fell with hurt. "You have to run."

"Like hell, Clarissa Morgenstern, we're not going anyway. Not when we just got you back." Isabelle said her arms crossed as she stared at her best friend with spite. "Did you really think we wouldn't come? Everyone's been worried sick! You just go gallivanting off—"

"Isabelle, please, you have to listen to me. If you don't run, you'll die. My vision—"

Isabelle let out a loud groan. "Oh, by the Angel, if I have to hear one more thing about this damn vision, I swear to all that is Holy I will rip the next person's head off."

Clary shook her head vigorously, her red hair much more vibrant against the black of her gear. Her eyes were frantic as Jace watched her closely, realization coming to his mind as he regarded the meadow. "The vision." He whispered before he looked at Clary and cut off Isabelle, who continued to nag. "We need to go."

Clary nodded, finally feeling a rush of relief spread through her body like vicodin. "You all need to go."

Jace nodded with her taking a strong hold of her arm. "Yes, **all **of us."

She shook her head as she tried to pull away, though if she were being completely honest she would admit that she didn't pull that hard. The feeling of his long pianist fingers hugging her arm made her shiver with delight. She remembered when she had sat in his embrace so long ago and placed her small, slender fingers along his own and played the piano; both of them moving as one person. "Jace, I can't. I have to fight him, it can only be me."

"All of us go or none of us." Jace said as Alec nodded in agreement, his arms crossed over his chest.

Isabelle cocked her hip and raised an eyebrow. "That's right. There is no way in hell I am leaving without you." She said looking at Clary. "And I think I speak for all of us when I say that."

Max frowned and folded his arms too as he watched her, his glasses endearingly falling down the bridge of his nose as he pouted. Clary shook her head. "You don't understand . . . "

She stopped as the feeling of death drifted from her body; her heart beat settling into a steady rhythm as she glanced over her shoulder. A foggy mist, only up to their ankles, settled over the bright and cheery meadow, as it passed the flowers began to wither in on themselves and brown.

"Oh no." Clary whispered as she watched the mist spread like stretching grabbing hands. Turning swiftly, she looked beyond the Lightwoods; there was no use in trying to make them run as they watch the scene play out in front of them transfixed, her eyes shot to Cleo who still stood on the edge of the forest.

Clary thought of only one thing to say; the only thing left to do.

She spoke to Cleo with no voice as the young girl nodded before turning and sprinting off in the direction of Alicante, of where Clary was headed not too long ago.

* * *

Cleo sprinted through the harsh brushes and heavy foliage as she raced toward the glass city; she was their only hope left as she pushed herself to go faster, to pump her legs harder. The Velocity rune she had placed on her chest helped move her along at an alarming rate as she soared over fallen tree limbs and jumped over thick, sinking mud.

When she broke through the dense trees, she thought she might cry as she pushed herself to move quicker. The screeching of demons sounded in the far distance, giving her motivation to run faster and pusher herself harder.

Clary's urgent face stuck in her head as her mouth formed the soundless word. The word that had pushed Cleo into action.

She was their only chance.

_Run._

* * *

Clary stood with shaking limbs as she watched him walk forward, his body was tall and lean, yet at the same time he was sturdy and solid. His white hair gleamed in the fading sun, which glowed in bright oranges, reds and deep purples; the color of bruises and blood in the sky. Those black eyes that she had grown so used to in her nightmares seemed to shine with a demonic sparkle. His smile promised pain and crimson.

Here he was; the man who had made her life a living hell.

Who had her questioning her worth and dignity. The bane of her existence; just as she was his.

Valentine.

Isabelle gasped as she held tightly to Jace's darkly inked arm, who spread his legs and tensed his back; his stance was battle ready and nothing about his face showed signs that he was in a gaming mood. But she knew Valentine would play with them before he decided to attack. She had to keep his attention on her, which in truth, wouldn't be that difficult. She was the one he had come for.

She thought she would be looking for him; but as always he had been ten steps ahead of her. She walked right into his trap.

"Hello, dear daughter." Valentine said in a flourish as if he was a man of prestige and honor. As if they were truly family. The fog continued to spread, twisting around the group of teen's ankles like coil. The feeling of death followed shortly behind it.

This would not be like her vision; she wouldn't let it happen. She pushed the fear that bubbled in her stomach away and let the anger that settled deep in her veins flood through. Poison boiled at her throat as the fury of her anger took refuge in her heart; making her blood burn. If she was going to die, she was going to take him down with her. She refused to go alone.

"Valentine." She nodded feeling the ice in her tone. She watched as a slight wind; pushed the white blonde hair around his head tousling it and making him look younger and more innocent; it made the coat tails of his black jacket flap before it settled around him again.

His laugh was cool as he tossed his head back; she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down and imagined what it would feel like to sink her seraph blade right into his neck. Satisfying, she was sure. "Why so cold, daughter? Haven't you missed me?"

"Not in the slightest." Clary said with a frosty smile to match his. "Who in their right mind would miss you, **father**?" She said the word with a pool of disgust. "Practically everyone would rather see your head on the end of their seraph bladeincluding myself."

The insult didn't seem to faze him and he nodded looking at her like any parent who was pretending to listen to something ludicrous their child said. The action made Clary clench her fists in rage but yelling would only give him the satisfaction that he wanted. Not to mention an upper hand.

"Yes, not many people are visionaries. I would be lying if I didn't say I wished you saw things differently, Clarissa."

Clary let out a harsh laugh that she couldn't seem to keep in. "A visionary? You?"

She shook her head and placed herself between the Lightwoods and the oncoming danger. This snide banter would grow tiresome soon and she didn't want them in the line of attack first. She could feel Jace's eyes burning into her as if he knew exactly what she was doing. And she had no doubt he did know. Alec stood to Isabelle's right, his arrow at the ready and aimed at the only man that could probably catch and snap that arrow in one fluid motion. Except for Jace.

"Death and destruction, that's what your vision is?" Clary's nose flared as her father's smile fell from his face. "That's a pretty piss poor vision."

A dark look crossed over Valentine's face at her bland disrespect. "A world of strength," He smiled a manic smile as his eyes dug into her face even from across the meadow. "Where we are the strongest beings of our race. You're special, Clarissa. I **made **you that way. The same goes for the Herondale boy." Clary whipped her head to throw a look at Jace, who looked as surprised as her.

Suddenly everything began to click in her head. What the Inquisitor said and the fact that Jace was faster and more agile than all the other kids. The only person trained well enough to take her on.

"You are the ultimate soldiers; much more useful than any Downworlder," His nose curled up in distaste. "Or Shadowhunter a like. But more importantly you're dark, daughter; you are the perfect mix between dark and light. You **are **my perfect warrior."

Clary shook her head, trying to dislodge all the voices that crept back into her mind; the sounds of hate and desolation, the feeling of pain and hurt.

"No," Her voice sounded weak even to her. "I am not dark."

"Yes," Valentine nodded stepping further out into the deadened meadow; the browned and withered flowers crunched under his feet like brittle bones. "You are my daughter, Clarissa; you will always be part of me. You have a dark heart; just as I do."

She shook her head and bent down as the world seemed to be swallowed in a swirl of light and sound. She wasn't quite sure but she thought someone was calling out to her. She felt her legs begin to shake as the voices grew louder.

"_You have a dark heart; it is reflected in your eyes, Valentine's daughter."_

She had tried to run from the darkness in her soul, make them see differently but she was her father's daughter. She had been trained and taught to destroy first and ask questions later. She was a creature of dark proportions; made to be a killing machine that felt no remorse. A cold chill settled over her and she felt her heart beginning to sever. Why should she save the very people who had crushed her very spirit? The very people who would sacrifice her if that had been the answer to stop all the death. Why should she keep them safe?

A small hand placed itself on her shoulder as she turned her head. She had fallen to her knees as if the thought had been too much to bear and stared into the large eyes of Max Lightwood. The little boy who had shared his bed and given her all his trust; he had accepted her immediately knowing fully well who she was. He had faith in her; he always had.

She knew why she had to save them, the people who had turned their backs on her when she had needed support. Because she was better than her father, she was better than them. Because the Lightwood's deserved to be spared from his wrath; because she had too.

She looked up at Jace, who looked like he wanted to run to her but didn't want to set Valentine off. He had always believed in her, from the very beginning. Jace's golden curls shimmered in the fading light and his eyes shined like two gleaming glass gems. He would love her to the ends of time; she would love him the same in return.

She stood slowly and brought her eyes back to her father's with cold determination, the look of predatorial satisfaction fell slowly from his face. "I'm nothing like you."

"Of course, you are. My blood bleeds through your veins, my child."

Clary nodded. "That might be so, but I am nothing like you. You are darkness, but I'm the light. That's why you need to get rid of me." The memory of the tarnished and battered girls that had all looked like her ran through her vision; their lifeless faces and bloodless cheeks.

A sick smile spread over his face. "I see you saw my gifts. It's a project I've been working on. You see to unleash Lilith I need a," He paused as his eyes looked skyward before flicker back to hers. "Sacrifice from each creature that dwells in our world. I seem to have gotten a little carried away." His white teeth gleamed in the shining sun. "I haven't quite completed it yet. You're right that I need you dead; but not because you pose a threat. I need you to make more of a contribution, if you will."

Clary shook her head. "I won't do it, whatever it is you want."

Valentine let out another blood boiling laugh. "I need your heart, sweet daughter."

"Because you don't have one to spare?" Clary smirked, wishing she could raise her eyebrow like everyone else on the frickin' planet could.

Valentine let his heinous smile settle back on her making her skin quiver with disgust. "Because the only way the ritual can be completed is with the blood of both an angel," His teeth were clenched in a tight grin that contorted his face. "And a demon."

He spoke matter-factly as if that would make her change her mind. "Well, you can forget about it."

Something indescribable passed over Valentine's face as his smile grew as if he had wanted her to say such a thing. A large beam of red light shot into the sky above their heads, Clary had never seen anything like it before but it couldn't have been good. The shadows of the dark forest behind him began to mold into shapes and beings with sharp tongues and jagged mouths. Some with 6 eyes and others with none; colors ranging from black to yellow pus ran from their mouths, noses and eyes. He had brought his reinforcements just as she knew he would.

The vision was about to start.

"That wasn't a request." Valentine spoke calmly and he glanced over his shoulder with an undisguised smile; one of the creatures behind him let out an impatient cry. "It was a demand."

Clary barely had time to push Max behind her and whisper the angel Ariel's name before the demons fell upon them.

* * *

Cleo felt like her lungs were going to explode. She couldn't seem to take in enough oxygen as her arms pumped and her legs surged her forward unable to stop. Practically rolling down the steep hill outside the Glass City, she screamed to the pacing figure she knew would only be Luke.

The older man frowned, not in disbelief, but in worry. Cleo knew that Luke would suspect, even figure out, that they would leave to find Clary anyway. She was sure he had been counting on it. A fine sweat had broken out on her skin and she wished she could take her jacket off and feel the cool breeze that brushed her hair against her cheeks.

"Cleo? Where are the others?" Luke questioned, his hair was tousled by the breeze and his thinly lined face was even more handsome under the glow of the fading sun. The glasses he didn't truly need were perched on the end of his nose. "What's wrong?' He said furrowing his eyebrows and putting his large hands on her shoulders.

"The others. . . fight. . . Clary found. . .Valentine—" Cleo could barely make out a sentence as she swallowed through her dry throat and cough a strong breath into her lungs.

"What?" Luke's eyes widened as his hold tightened. "What about Clary and Valentine?" He seemed more panicked now as Cleo practically bent over at the knee heaving.

"He found her." Cleo said cough again and taking in a deep breath. "They're in trouble."

That was all she needed to say as Luke swiftly lifted Cleo into his arms and sprinted into the Alicante, paying no attention to the guards that commanded them to stop. Two of the three guards leaped down from their tower posts and charged after them. Cleo wanted to scream at them to stop but she couldn't find the breath.

Luke cursed under his breath as he dropped Cleo and clenched his hands into fists beginning to shake. His bones crunched and quivered as his skin moved over them. His face began to bend and extent outward; his cheekbones breaking, reforming into a new face. Long, sharp claws pushed through the knuckles of his hands in clean, bloody pops as Luke bent forward; his spine gave out with a loud snap.

The sight both sickened and fascinated her as Luke fell to his knees and shook his fine new coat of fur before beckoning her to climb on to his back with a growl. She obeyed instantly as they charged toward the Council Building the two Shadowhunters gaining distance quickly.

Luke broke through the door with a loud crash; the wood splintered and bent as it rocketed against the back wall. Cleo clenched onto Luke's scruff of neck hair as she dug her heels into his sides, trying more so to keep balance rather than to push him onward.

The crowd of people that sat in pew after pew of the Council Hall gave a gasp at the werewolf that was breathing heavily, its tongue hanging loosely out of the side of its mouth. Cleo tried to think of Luke doing such a thing when he was human but it was too crazy of a thought to conjure up.

"Werewolf!" A woman in the far corner yelled as a similar woman who held a striking resemblance to another blazing red head stood uncertainly.

"Luke?" Jocelyn said from her seat before the Council.

"Remove this rabid beast! It is forbidden for Downworlder's to enter this sacred land!" The Consul, which was the highest ranking Council member

, Malachi

Dieudonne, yelled from his seat. "Dispose of it."

Several male Shadowhunters came forward menacingly as Luke took a steady step back and let out a growl, curling his black lip over pink gums exposing sharp jagged teeth. The two guards from before cornered him from the entry way. Luke was stuck and they would hurt him, Cleo was sure.

She knew what she wanted to do. Something she would have done had it been months ago and she had not met Clary and her family. But she had and now her entire persona had changed. Cleo blinked in realization as she put it all together in her head like the perfect puzzle piece. They had all seemed to think they were trying to change Clary but, in truth, Clary had changed all of them. There was a light inside her. A gift that no one seemed to have but her; everyone could see she was special. That's why Cleo had hated her, but to say she still did would be a lie.

Before she had met Clary she would have simply left Luke to fend for himself. Watch remorselessly as the Clave did what they thought was fit and "disposed" of him. Now, she couldn't even bear the thought as she leaped down off his back, vaguely she saw Jocelyn fighting her way toward him and her Uncle—Robert Lightwood— trying to explain that Luke was harmless, that he was one of them but the Consul simply turned his head in disgust at the thought.

Cleo felt a tinge of disgust herself at the very laws she followed, at the very rules she obeyed. She was supposed to fight for the innocent. She took a look at the people scrambling forward like brainwashed minions all because of one command. Clary was out there; fighting for the very people who degraded her and would have thrown her to the wolves; the very people who wanted to dispose of the only true father she had ever known. The thought made Cleo respect her even more. She wanted to be like Clarissa, she could be if she saved them.

She unsheathed her seraph blades, like Jace had taught her, one in each hand as she twirled them before her. Taking a stand in front of Luke, she pointed her blades at the very people she was supposed to have counted as blood warriors, as her brothers and sisters in battle. But she wanted nothing to do with them; Luke gave another growl as he turned to the two guards still approaching.

The act was small but it spoke volumes. Men and women alike stopped to stare in confusion before scowling angrily. "Move aside, child." A burly man she knew to be, Blackthorn, spat at her.

But Cleo simply raised her head, something she thought Clary would have done. "You're not hurting, Luke."

"Lucian Graymark?" Blackthorn said with a turn of his head as the wolf behind her shook out its fur.

"Yes." Cleo answered; she tried to picture what Luke would do right about now. Probably reach into his pocket for his specs which he placed nicely on his nose.

"What are you doing?" Malachi spat at the uncertain Shadowhunters, Luke had been one of them before he had been turned and now it posed the question: was he one of them now or not? Cleo thought they were all silly for asking such a question. Of course, he was. "Move the girl and get the dog!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Jocelyn said as she took a stand beside Cleo, her own blade glowed as Maryse stood beside her.

Cleo shook her head, feeling a sort of pride as she took a step forward. "You have to listen to me. Valentine's brought his army to the Angel's Meadow just beside Lake Lyn." Cleo said quickly. Jocelyn turned to look at her with a wide gaze as many others took turns gasping and exchanging hurried whispers. "Clary and the Lightwoods are holding him off—"

"That's absurd!" Malachi laughed, the stomach curling sound echoed off the high ceiling. "Valentine is supposed to attack tomorrow. That's what the Silent Brother's have said—"

"And I'm saying that the very girl whose premonitions drove the Silent Brother's to you is fighting him now." Cleo snapped back, Jocelyn still wore a face of extreme shock and worry as if she couldn't quite wrap her head around it but the thought had her in fear anyway. "You must listen! We have to gather an army and fight him while he doesn't expect it. We have to go now or they'll die and all will be lost!"

"The girl is right." Aldertree said as he and the Council members from the day earlier stood. "We gave you the warning that this would occur."

"And you simply believe her?" Malachi laughed again though this time it was in a degrading tone. "This petulant child?"

"I don't have reason to doubt her." Aldertree said standing from his seat and adjusting the gear around his plump waist, the three others doing the same.

"You believe Valentine's daughter?" Malachi said in disbelief.

"I believe Clarissa Morgenstern."

The Inquisitor spoke simply as he walked forward, the crowd parting in awe. The girl with the bright violet eyes and the two fair haired men followed after. "I order you to return to your position, Aldertree." If the stout man heard the order he gave no indication. "I am the Consul and I **demand **that you—"

"I follow the laws placed before me as a Shadowhunter." Aldertree said as he stood to Cleo's left, shaking Jocelyn on the hand with a smile. "Those are the only demands I follow."

"You can't do this!"

"I can."

Malachi laughed wickedly as he regarded the small group coldly. "Fine. Go fight a losing battle—"

"It's better to die a hero than to live a coward." Luke replied—having been given a set of Shadowhunter gear to change into, a sign of forgiveness— as Robert clapped his friend on the shoulder and the group of 8 set off to fight a battle they would a surely lose. But not before Luke called for reinforcements first.

* * *

Clary stabbed the creature with the black slime swiftly through the chest, it made a gurgling sound as if it were choking on its own poisonous blood. She watched as demon upon demon spilled from the dark forest; a foggy mist killing all the wildlife it could reach. She had no idea where he was getting the reinforcements but they couldn't have come from nowhere.

She curled her arm behind her as she held Max closely to her small frame. She watched Valentine from where he stood, like a God among peasants, as he gave her a slight wave and a hideous smile. She narrowed her eyes as she took the head off a Ravenor demon.

Clary felt cool leather at her back and a wisp of black hair caress her face making her body cave in relief. Isabelle and Clary formed a protective cage around Max as they stabbed, cut and pierced as many demons as they could take. But they were quickly being surrounded and they were running out of time. Soon, they would be nothing but pickings if Clary's vision was correct.

Clary watched confused as a black worm-like creature slithered toward them. The black slime that encased its body secreted from its skin like mucus but Clary knew that one drop would cook the skin upon their body. If she wasn't mistaken, she had already killed this creature.

Twice.

She blinked as her blade came down hard onto the soft tissue of its head for the third time as it let out a hiss before disappearing completely. That didn't make sense. Was it her imagination? Was there so many of them her brain just grouped all the demons together? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

She watched with a narrowed gaze as the same creature slithered its way toward her a fourth time. She wasn't mistaken. This was why Valentine was unstoppable. This was why he was feared. His army never ran out. She looked back up at the red beacon of light in the sky; turning the clouds into a deep black and tinting the bright blue into navy. It seemed to pulse with life as it burned brightly.

He hadn't gotten "carried" away with his killings; he needed two separate sacrifices from the Downworlder's and Shadowhunter's.

One to open the portal to the underworld and the other to raise Lilith.

Valentine had opened a passage between the mortal and immortal worlds; making his army unstoppable. Unless she could get to that pulsing red beam—she suspected that just might be her best bet at the portal— and close it all their fighting would be in vain.

"Isabelle!" Clary yelled over the screaming demons as some fell and lay haphazardly upon the brown and deadened earth motionless. "Fall back toward Jace and Alec!"

Isabelle barely acknowledged her as she gave a swift nod before grabbing Max and dragging him back with her. Clary followed, slashing at anything that came too close for her liking. She turned her back to run as another demon landed swiftly in front of her. Its body was gangly as it stood hunched over, the horns upon its head were a shining white as was the rest of its limbs as Clary took note that it was completely made of bone.

She slashed the creature in the arm as it crumpled under her fading sword before it reconnected as if magnets coming back together.

"Shit." Clary whispered, as she bend her back; the creature let out a wail and swiped at her but it's clawed hand just missed her skin as Clary stood back into a normal position. If it had been any other occasion she would have boasted that she totally pulled off the "matrix" move. She raised her blade to slash at its torso but the creature beat her to the punch as it swatted her as if she weight no more than a feather. It sent her soaring through the air, her hair flying around her from the pulsing wind as she fell back to earth with a crash. Her head collided with the hard ground, which almost made her scream in pain as she got back to her feet.

She stumbled to a standing position before her vision filled with black; her legs shaking and her body swaying. Her vision slowly refocused in big splotches as the beast took its place before her again and raised its hand to swat her once more, perhaps, or crush her completely. She waited a moment defenseless as she lingered in hesitation. She wondered why she didn't feel like she was being crushed or beaten as she raised her unsteady gaze; the beast never got to bring its hand down; an arrow had been embed into the demon's hollow eye socket breaking the fine skull that make up the creature's head. It let out a screech as it slowly crumbled; painstakingly turning to dust under her feet.

She looked at Alec, who stood at least a couple yards away from her upon the battlefield. He had already loaded another arrow onto his bow when she nodded at him in thanks; he smiled at her in return to the gesture.

A blast of blue electricity lit the decaying meadow as Valentine, who was much closer to her than Clary had anticipated, watched with narrowed eyes in confusion as his precious army burned from the hot balls of light; of raining blue fire.

Clary watched as an emotion, she had seen many times before on herself, pass over Alec's face. A look she had seen in the mirror thinking quietly to herself or when a certain blonde was looking at her. An emotion so raw, it could not be explained but rather experienced.

"Magnus." Clary whispered and no sooner did she say it, that the sparkling warlock stepped onto the deadened landscape making the scene even more dramatic and completely unrealistic.

"There's a party and no one invited, moi." Magnus said as he placed a brightly colored finger-nailed hand to his chest. "My invite must have gotten misplaced in the mail. There could be no other explanation but I'll let it go this once; I do love to crash a party as well."

"And you want to get me the dictionary." Isabelle said with a scoff to Jace, who threw her a look amusement, his hair was tousled and his face was bruised and scratched. Blood clotted both of them from their clothes to their hair and Clary prayed it wasn't their own. Clary watched as Isabelle coiled her whip quickly around the prowling demon in front of her and pulled sharply, letting the strong thread cut its head clean off in a flash of blood. "He needs it much more than I do."

"I think you both need it a fair amount."

Magnus frowned in curiosity, his heads poised in front of him as he shot a particularly bright ball of blue flame at an oncoming creature; its flesh had been ripped off by another beast of some sort and hung half from its muzzle. Its yellow eyes rolled back as it vanished into dust. "I'll have you know I have a very wide vocabulary."

"Yes," Jace said with a nod as another demon soared toward him. He easily ducked before stabbing his sword upward; it made a satisfying sound as it struck deep into the creature's belly. "But do you know how to use said vocabulary?"

"Indeed, I do."

"Your earlier comment about a "party" would say otherwise." Jace said as his eyes scanned the battleground furiously as if he was looking for something. Magnus shot more blue balls of light from his hands as a crowd of more demons sprang forward. Alec moved toward his parabatai and placed a hand on his shoulder, pointing right where Clary stood uncertainly; a hand placed lightly to her still spinning head.

A feeling of relief filled her at the sight of Magnus and when Jace's eyes locked with hers, she felt like they might actually have a chance to win. She smiled at him as he watched her with those shimmering golden irises; they spoke of a world she wanted to explore. Of a future they would uncover together; Jace never needed words—though he usually swept her under the rug in that department too—all he had to do was give her one look and she knew he loved her. That the future he saw was a bright one.

Jace yelled to her as he shot forward, more light blasted its way on the battlefield. Some of the bright balls were a flaming red and erupted its victim into flames on contact while others shook the earth under their feet and cracked the hard surface sucking demons down into its never ending abyss before closing back up as it stitched back together.

Magnus had come and he had brought reinforcements. She watched vampires and other warlocks alike bare their own fangs and rip into their victims. She focused back on Jace as he waved his hands and yelled at her again, his eyes were frantic as she finally computed what he was telling her.

"Run, Clary!" Jace yelled slashing at another demon that managed to make a large gash in his shoulder before disappearing completely into dust. "Run!"

She didn't ask why; she simply turned. She was going to run in no particular direction really but she could see in Jace's eyes that she had to move quickly and she had to move now.

But it was too late.

She had taken no more than one step before Valentine had his large hand on the back of her neck, yanking her toward him like a rag doll and turning her to face him before curling that same hand around her throat just above her collar bone. She felt his fingers clench and apply pressure around her neck as the airway began to close; he held her dangling before him, kicking out but accomplishing nothing.

"You really think you'll win?" Valentine let out a cheerful sound of laughter, Clary clawed at his hand feeling her nails digging into his soft flesh. But he gave no sign that it pained him as he shook her; her body jerking with the motion. "I pity you for your hope." He said as he pushed her back, releasing her neck as she collided with the ground again and took in a sharp breath. A spike of pain flared in her head but she bit her tongue against the whimper in her throat as she coughed and sucked in another lungful of air. Her father let out a cackle as he shook his head, his hand rested calmly on his blade. "Do you see what you've done, you cursed, vile creature?"

Clary shook her head, the images falling in front of her mind like a sad silent film. "No." She whispered against the visions of fallen comrades, of the stench of death and rivers of blood. She couldn't let her dream come true. She was supposed to make it right.

His smile was blindingly white matching his hair giving off the persona that he was pure but he smelled of death and gore and held the look of the devil in his black eyes. "The destruction you leave in your wake. They die because of you, Clarissa." He looked throughout the crowd thoughtfully before shaking his head and zeroing his gaze on her.

She watched as Isabelle and Alec stood back to back, the gash on Isabelle's arm was bleeding profusely as she fell with a scream. Alec tried to stab the demons around them, they slinked forward as if all connected with string, but it was no use as he crimpled to his knees. A large black haired creature stood over him, its burning saliva falling from its wide mouth onto his uncovered shoulder with a hiss as the skin beneath began to disintegrate. He bent forward as if to protect the large gash, which tinted his black gear a glaring scarlet, on his stomach.

She watched in slow motion as Isabelle turned her head and shouted to Max, who nodded quickly and sprinted toward the woods.

She had seen this all before.

"No." She whispered again. It couldn't be, after all she had done. After all the work she had set out to do to stop this very moment. To stop the rolling scene before her; what she wouldn't give to do it over. To have not acted so rashly and run off by herself to play hero. She should have known they would find her. Jace could always find her.

"But I won't fall to the likes of you. You're not strong enough. It takes someone with vindication and potency to survive."

She had messed everything up. She truly was poison and she would be the reason for all their deaths.

"Clary! **No**!" She heard her name being as she turned over her shoulder. Jace was surrounded as an Eidolon demon kicked out his knees from under him; she could practically see his heart breaking as she stared into his eyes. She could hear his heart beginning to shatter with every beat it took. They held his head back by his hair as if to force him to watch; to make him break completely.

She turned her head slightly feeling the black dread taking over her stomach. They needed a miracle, they needed time. She wished they could fly away from here, just like she had seen Alec do with his arrows. Just keep their body's straight and rocket away.

Suddenly, an idea shot into Clary's head, so fast she thought she might not catch it. She widened her eyes and looked at Alec. His icy blue gaze was already locked on her, searching her mind just as he always seemed to. She prayed to the Angel he could see it in her eyes as she nodded toward him and he gave her a slight head nod back as if knowing exactly what she was asking all without saying a word.

Valentine smirked down at her none-too-kindly. "You're too pathetic and you love to strongly. Love makes you weak, affection makes you feeble, and warmth makes you fragile. And because you are soft, it will be your one true downfall."

She turned her attention back to her father, who had raised his sword high above his head. She could see the shooting star engraved into the blade's hilt; her family's chest. She would die at the hand of her family; the same man who had held her, taught her how to use a sword, and given her life.

The same man, who had murdered hundreds, would continue to murder those who were in his way. The same man, who had tortured her, beat her to within an inch of her life and called it love; said it was for her well being, that he was helping her become her true potential. Her father had made her into a warrior; his perfect weapon.

She was going to give him a piece of what she was made of.

"You don't know the first thing about me." Clary said as Alec swiftly adjusting his footing from where he sat on his knees, taking out the demon that stood in front of him, and grabbed at the lone arrow in his quiver. In his position, Alec laid on his side half on his back and had a straight shot toward her.

He let the arrow go.

Vaguely, she registered that Max had entered the forest.

She hastily rolled as Valentine's sword struck the soft earth digging into its surface and sticking for a moment. She pushed off the ground and used the "gifts" her father had so kindly given her; with her fast reflects she grasped the wood of the arrow as it soared toward her and used the momentum to jam it straight into Valentine's bending shoulder blade. Her father let out a yell and dropped his sword in surprise would Clary dove to pick up. She struggled a moment before the sword was held firmly in her hands.

Another howl, different from Valentine's surprised wail, took to the sky as a large brown wolf darted out of the foliage of the woods and launched itself onto the demon closest to it. She watched with proud eyes as Cleo came rushing forward swords blazing, her mother following after the dyed blue haired beauty.

More wolves followed after as they jumped on the surrounded groups of Shadowhunters, 5 vampires and 3 Warlocks. She watched as the crowd of demons holding Isabelle and Alec gave angry screeches jumping at the vicious wolves, scratching, biting and clawing in a tangled heap as the two siblings jumped to their feet.

She saw Maryse start toward her children kissing Isabelle's forehead as Robert pulled Jace in for a tight embrace, having been saved not two seconds before the Lightwood children. Clary didn't wait for them to reach her as she turned and shot toward the forest, using Valentine's surprise to her advantage. She watched as two hell hounds, red-eyed black dogs, ran in before her; she hoped she wasn't too late.

_Do not let the boy go or all will be lost._

She felt her stomach fall in fright as the thought that she just might be.

* * *

"Oh, my children." Maryse said as she stroked Jace's blonde mop of hair back and kissed his forehead, before pulling him in and hugging him close in a desperate to feel all of him. Jace said nothing sarcastic or vain—nothing truly came to mind— as his long arms curled around his "mother's" waist as he held her urgently back. "You're safe." She whispered as she brushed Jace's mess of curls down.

He didn't answer as he bent his face close to the crook of Maryse's neck, soaking in the motherly love she radiated just for him. Maryse was never a touchy-feely type of mother, even when they had been small, she had been rather cold and distant but it was never because she hadn't cared. Maryse loved too much; she didn't want the world to see her weakness because then they could use it against her.

Use her children against her.

Isabelle smiled at her father tentatively as Robert brought his daughter close to his chest, kissing the top of her head. "My princess." He whispered against the soft hair that cascaded down Isabelle's back and grabbed his son's neck to squeeze it affectionately.

"How did you know where we were?" Alec said, staring up at his father in wonder. Giving the same look, Max sometimes did whenever he was looking at Jace.

"Cleo came for us. I thought I told you to stay home." Robert said pushing his daughter back and giving her a harsh glare.

The entire scene seemed comical as demons and Downworlders fought with screams and hisses around them. Lights flared and dissipated as warlocks took blows and received them; several of their team lay faced down in the soft grass, unmoving.

The children never got to answer as Jace softly pushed away from Maryse with a tentative smile, the older, serious women held a soft look before she gave a frantic glance around the battlefield. "Where's Max?"

Isabelle brushed off the question. "I sent him toward the City for more help. He should be fine."

Maryse didn't look pleased as Jace went rim rod straight beside her. "No." He whispered as he looked toward the woods. His eyes took in the entire battleground as wolves clashed against demons, warlocks shot lightning from their palms and Shadowhunters fought with glowing blades; slashing, tearing, and ripping. Nowhere did he see a small, red head or a tall, lean man with eyes like the devil. He remembered her shaking voice all those nights ago when she had retold the horrific sight of death before her eyes.

He remembered a dream that was a nightmare.

A nightmare that had been a vision.

"Clary."

Jace spoke only one word before he took off toward the dark forest, toward the beckon of red light that radiated toward the sky above them. Isabelle gave a straggled cry as she and Alec rushed after him, only to be intercepted by a pair of spider-like demons that stepped into their path.

Jace didn't turn back. He knew what would happen next. He had to reach her and Max before the two hell hounds did.

Or their psychopathic, deranged master.

* * *

Clary didn't stop, not for the branches that scratched her cheeks or the thorned bushes that ripped at her battle gear; she had to reach Max. She was driven with one mindset; driven with only one picture in her head. A small boy, with large glasses perched on his nose, big trusting brown eyes and a large, undisguised smile.

"Max!" Clary yelled as she pushed her legs faster, jumping over a fallen log in her path as she let out a huff of air, her lungs screamed for more as she brushed the red tendrils of hair from her eyes.

"Clary?" A small voice said to her left as she almost tripped over herself to stop the momentum she had gained. She turned sharply, the silence around her screamed in her ears as she watched a figure materialize from behind a large, towering oak.

The dread that had weighed her stomach down like stones vanished as she rushed toward the small boy and held him close. She brushed the matted hair from his forehead and adjusted his crocked glasses as she fawned over him. She had done it; Max was okay.

All would be saved.

A branch breaking behind her made her body freeze from where she crouched before Max. The little boy's face flashed with fear before closing into stone cold determination. Clary turned slowly and faced the hound that had obviously followed her to its bait. It growled as the other one emerged from the dark wood beside it; the black fur upon its body made it blend easily with its surroundings and seemed to sway and dance across its large frame as if moved from a nonexistent wind. Its blood red eyes glowed through the dark as it licked the teeth that were more set like a shark's than a wolf's, three rows of long, jagged, teeth framed it's mouth.

Clary took Max's hand slowly, feeling his small fingers curl around hers tightly. "On my count, we run." Clary whispered to the small boy, never once taking her attention off the two growling and flat-eared beasts in front of her. He squeezed her hand in agreement.

She returned the favor once.

Twice.

As she squeezed a third time, she and Max burst forward in a wild amount of speed, crawling under fallen logs, dancing around quick sand, and jumping over streams. Clary kept her hand on Max's tightly as she dragged him behind her. She could hear the creature's gaining, their four legs trumped their two and Clary knew she had to think of something quickly. They had to make it to the red beam that seemed to be lighting up the entire sky in a red tint. She just knew it was Valentine's portal; she had to find a way to close it.

They made snarling and growling sounds as they closed the distance quickly. She had to think of something; anything to get Max out of the woods safely. She refused to let him die; she wouldn't let it happen. Her green eyes took in everything it could before it landed on the thicket of thorn bushes off to their right; she was slightly too big to push through it unharmed but Max was the perfect size.

"Go toward the thicket, Max." Clary said letting his hand go. "Run to the thorn bushes and don't look back." Max moved as fast as his little legs could carry him, which she knew to be pretty fast, and watched him swing away from her. One of the hounds broke off after him as he dove him little body into the thicket. Clary smiled when the dog let out a strangled cry and rubbed its face into the earth with the thorns struck to its nose.

She laughed gleefully as she charged faster, breaking through the thicker foliage with a swift leap and rolling to a stop when her body impacted the soft earth again. She fell onto her back as she stared upward at the pulsing light; she calmly placed a hand to her father's blade and turned to stand for the attack from the woods.

The clearing she stood in wasn't at all the same size or as beautiful as the meadow she had stood in once before but it was large enough to fight the two dogs easily. She could quickly dispose of the scoundrels and then climb the stone steps behind her to the stone perch that the red beam seemed to radiate from. Vaguely, she could make out the demon's that exited out the other side, running into the forest beyond her.

She waited a moment in silence, but no dark figures appeared. She could feel their eyes watching her as she lingered, not willing to turn her back on her opponent. She could hear the sound of a branch break behind her; as she smirked to herself. She could tell where her enemy stood; to her right. She could feel her hands clench into fists as her stomach churned in excitement, dread and anticipation. She already knew what she was going to do; she'd wait for one of the hounds to strike. She would wait for it to charge forward close enough so she may lean her body to the left and grab a healthy amount of fur to swing herself upward onto its back. She then would raise her sword high and sever the juncture between the neck and the spinal cord in one smooth stab before turning to face the other one.

She could hear it coming toward her as she turned just as it was inches behind her, leaning to the left and grabbing hold of soft, dowry like hair. She swung around as arm's clenched around her, trapping her against a hard chest as Jace's mouth came down hard on hers. His lips dominated hers in a way that she simply melted. Usually she fought her own dominance but she couldn't find the strength as he took from her what he needed. And she let him.

"Don't ever do that to me again." He whispered his forehead against hers as she smiled softly. "We fight together." His eyes pleaded with her as she leaned her head forward to capture his lips again.

"Always."

They both turned to face the two hounds that came barreling out of the woods, their arms still locked around each other as they calmly separated. Standing side-by-side they both raised their blades, ready to finish the bloodshed; ready to go back home and simply just exist together; just as they were always meant too.

"You go for the one on the left." Jace said as Clary nodded.

She gave him a swift look in her peripheral vision; he shined under the tinted blood-red sky like an avenging angel here to cleanse the world of evil. He belonged all to her. Her angel. "Okay, take the one on the right; he should be weakened from the injury to his snout."

"Are you insinuating that I will only beat this demon because it's weakened?" Jace said with an amused smirk, never taking his eyes off the charging creatures.

"No," Clary said with a smirk of her own. "I'm simply saying that it should be easier for you because of me." She quickly kissed his cheek, her lips soft as butterfly's wings and light as a feather. "You're welcome." She whispered in his ear before spinning around and jumping on the charging creature before her. She watched Jace shiver a moment before launching himself forward too.

The battle was over before it had even begun as they each took their blade and rammed into down sharply into the hound's neck; the beast's crumpling to their knees quickly and dying instantly.

Clary and Jace smiled at each other as the excitement in their gaze shined brightly between the pair. "I love you." Jace whispered with a goofy smile on his face.

Clary returned it with one of her own as she brushed a strand of curling, gold hair from his bruised cheek. "I love you too."

A menacing clapping took to the field as both Clary and Jace tensed their bodies; turning quickly to the new threat that walked calmly and nonchalantly from his place in the wood. He looked the same if not for the blood pulsing from his shoulder, his hair had been swept back like it had been before, and the black coat now had a hole in the shoulder but all-in-all he seemed completely fine; something that enraged Clary within her very core.

"Very good. You're much better than I would have dreamed." Valentine spoke with fascination in his black eyes. Clary could feel the chill that look gave her; she had seen it before in her training when she had pleased him with something. She could only feel the contempt for herself whenever she made him happy, he was a dark and cruel man; anything that made him smile had to be just as twisted as he was. "You're perfect." Valentine said as he walked forward; Jace and Clary held their ground as they watched him with cold eyes. "My two finest creations; apart are well trained but together are unstoppable." He seemed to be dawning on something as a light shined behind his eyes. "This is my perfect weapon; not apart but together."

He sounded crazy as he continued to walk forward as if in a daze; Clary met him halfway his sword raised to his throat. This stopped him and made him drop the glazed over look in his eyes as he looked down at her in disdain. "It's over, Father."

Valentine laughed as he closed his eyes in amusement; the sound of his glee made her clench her fingers around the sword tighter and her teeth to rub against each other in frustration. "But it has only just begun, dear daughter."

Faster than even she could compute Valentine moved. His hand came down hard upon hers, jostling the sword that she held in an iron tight grip in her hands. It flipped upward in a flash of blue light as Valentine caught it easily; the sword out of her hands and placed delicately in Valentine's. "You are only a child, Clarissa." He spat at her. "Do you truly believe you can beat me?"

Clary swallowed the acid that seemed to be bubbling like vomit in her throat; she swallowed harshly as the sword she had once held at his neck was held at hers. It was placed softly against the bruise he had made to her neck earlier and bit into her flesh sharply.

"Let her go, Valentine." Jace said in a steady voice; his sword was ready as he held it purposefully in his hands.

"Neither of you understand. Your minds are too feeble; they are weakened with innocence and gullibility." He said with dark eyes; his stare was making Clary uneasy as he dropped his blade and pushed her back into Jace's arms; who dropped his own seraph blade to catch her. "The world you think is free and pure is not, daughter. Those people you fight for, they have done nothing for you. I made you into what you are; I made you into the perfect fighter." Valentine said in pride as he watched them. "We will make this world a greater one; the four of us will rule it the way it was meant to be ruled. We'll become a family again." Valentine said as he watched them and for a moment Clary actually felt sorry for him. He truly believed he was saving the world; he believed he was helping them rather than hindering them.

"Four of us?" Clary asked tearful and breathless.

Valentine gave her a frown as he nodded once. "Of course. You, Jace, your mother and myself."

Clary shook her head slowly before she raised her eyes toward the corrupt man. Maybe, she could save him; maybe she could be his salvation. "You're wrong." She said it softly as she gestured to the darkened sky and the creatures that flowed like tears from the red portal's opening. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of clashing swords and howls, screeches and wails. "This is all wrong." She shook her head as Jace tightened his hold on her elbows. "This destruction won't solve anything; it isn't going to make anything better. You have to stop this, Dad. You can make all this stop."

Valentine looked at her a moment and for a brief second she thought she might have saw some recognition in his eyes but it disappeared before she could truly name what it was or if it had really been there at all. A cold, disconnected look settled over his face as he watched her. "Appealing to my humanity." Valentine smirked. "A nice touch, dear daughter." Took a step toward them and the pair retreated a step in return. "This is the way it has to be; it can't be stopped now. It is just the beginning." Valentine smiled gaily, his teeth whiten against the red background. "I am the beginning."

Clary felt her hopelessness settle in her stomach as she pushed away from Jace sharply and turned toward the portal; she ran up the few steps that were placed between her and the open red demonic beam. She looked at her reflection in the shining, pulsing crimson. Her plump mouth was parted and blood from a cut that was on her cheek let a tear drop of blood fall down; her hair was wild and curled in spirals around her head. Her eyes shined like two green gems and her gear was ripped and torn.

But most of all she saw determination, vindication, strength.

_**His very creation will be his destruction.**_

_"You have a light inside you, Jocelyn's daughter; one that you must use to light the darkness."_

_"But how do I do that?"_

_"When the time comes you will know."_

Clary knew; it seemed to weigh like lead in her back pocket as she raised her stele and poised it perfectly in front of her.

Valentine laughed from where he stood below her; Jace watched her with wide eyes as she stepped closer to the destructive portal. "It cannot be stopped, daughter. The darkness has been opened and there is nothing to do now but watch as it turns everything to black." Valentine spoke triumphantly as Clary slowly took the piece of paper from her pocket; unfolding the crisp lines to see the image she had sketched all those nights ago with Isabelle's uncapped eyeliner. The same paper she had taken from the desk in her room before she had fled. This was it; Brother Jeremiah was right, she did know.

It was time.

"You're wrong." Clary turned to where her father stood as he watched her with a curious expression.

_**You will destroy the darkness upon this land, dear Clarissa.**_

"I can stop it." She said mostly to herself. "I can make it right."

"What. . ." Valentine trailed off as he watched her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Clary poised her stele and let the paper fall from her hands. "I'm lighting the darkness." She spoke calmly as she drew along the portal slowly; hearing the groans and squeals leaving it as she pushed her stele in further. The rune that shined before her burned a bright white so bright she could barely stand to look at it as she brought her hand up to cover her eyes.

She knew what it stood for as she took a small step back and watched as the portal before her seemed to freeze, no longer pulsing like it had once done before. A rune no one had ever seen; something completely made by her and accepted by the angels.

_Light._

"No!" Valentine bellowed as he shoved Jace out of the way; the blonde boy—taken by surprise— tumbled forward and rolled to a stop further away than he was before as he jumped to his feet. Valentine was already charging up the steps toward her but it was too late. The portal was starting to cracked in fine, spreading lines as the rune she had placed only grew brighter illuminating everything in its warm, white glow. Each crack let another sliver of light through as the portal continued to break.

She turned, knowing what came next and slammed into Valentine. Both of them tumbled back down the steps as the portal blew outward; collapsing in on itself before exploding in a burst of blinding light. Clary watched behind her closed eyelids as her vision burned a bright red before settling into darkness again.

She opened her eyes tentatively as she took in her surroundings; the sky was dark, the sun having set at this point but was a cool navy color, no longer tinted a bright red like crimson.

She had done it. She had beaten her father.

Before she could get to her feet, a hand closed around her hair pulling at her red roots and dragged her to her feet. "What have you done you cursed creature?" His usually hard mask was broken as he looked at her coldly, she could feel her scalp begin to burn before he shoved her away.

"I lit up the darkness, father." She said with a superior laugh. "I stopped what you so carelessly started. You may be the beginning," She said with an amused smiled as she watched her father's eyes blaze with rage. His lips pressed together in a fine line as he clenched his teeth. "But I am the end."

Valentine raised his blade high above his head and brought it down on to her, a vicious war cry leaving his lips as he did so. Clary watched as Jace charged toward them; yelling as he ran before she felt the cold blade bite into her soft flesh.

This was the end; she may die but she had already won.

That was Clary's last thought before the world faded to blackness.

* * *

Darkness was all she knew. She seemed to be floating; her body felt light and buoyant though pain seemed to surround her like a blanket. She didn't truly know where she was as her surroundings became clearer. Her eyes were closed she knew and the voices around her told her she wasn't alone. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? Hadn't Valentine's blade ran her through? Had it all been a dream? Another one?

Another vision dream? She hoped not; she didn't know how much more she could take of those.

"When do you think she'll wake up?" A female voice rang out; it was higher and almost shrill with worry which she knew immediately to be Isabelle's.

"I don't know, but you repeating that question isn't going to make time go any faster." A curt answer was spit back out.

"Oh screw you, Jace. Like you haven't been asking that same question."

"I haven't. You've been asking it enough for all of us."

Clary heard Isabelle take a pause. "That's because I'm worried…"

Another pause followed as Jace sighed; she knew he had to be running a hand through his hair. Something he did frequently when he was stressed. "I know. So am I."

"Why don't you all go? I can watch her for awhile." Clary heard another voice enter the group as she acknowledged it as Cleo's.

"No, we should be here when she wakes up." Alec answered from her right.

"It's fine. She's out like a light and I can't say I blame her. She's not waking up anytime soon. Go. Eat. Rest. Bath." Cleo answered. "Seriously, you guys reek. Go take a shower."

"I'm not leaving her." Jace answered back quickly and Clary could feel a tightness on her hand as his fingers squeezed hers.

Cleo sighed. "At least, get some food. I promise to get you if she gives even the slightest sound of wakefulness."

"Okay…" Isabelle said hesitantly as she quickly squeezed Clary's other hand. "Be right back, Clare." She whispered softly in her ear before her fingers fell away from her.

Alec kissed her softly on the cheek. "Be back."

Jace seemed to linger before letting out a sigh. "You promise to get me if she wakes?"

"I promise to get you even if she mumbles in her sleep."

There was a silence that followed as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I'll be right back, baby. I love you." His whispered it along her cheek before he kissed her there too.

Clary heard the door to the infirmary close softly as she heard Cleo sigh and take the seat Jace was just vacated. She fought the fatigue that lay heavy upon her body as she fluttered her eyes open and looked to Cleo who sat with her head down. Her hand lay a few inches away from Clary's; as if she didn't know if she should hold it or not.

"It's not going to bite, you know." Clary said in a harsh voice making Cleo jump and look down at her in wonder.

Cleo let out a snort before shaking her head. "I should have known you'd be stubborn enough to wait until I promise everyone that if they leave they wouldn't miss seeing you wake."

Clary shrugged softly with a teasing smirk. "You know I live to make your life difficult."

Cleo let out another unfeminine snort; her nose stud shining in the fluorescent lights of the infirmary. "Clearly." She said with a huff before sitting again in Jace's seat.

Clary stared her a moment in confusion. "So, why are you still here?"

"What?"

She lifted her shoulders as if to indicate where they were. "Here. With me. In the infirmary."

"I told the other's I'd watch you."

"Until I woke up." She said with a nod and her eyebrows raised. "I'm awake and you're still here."

Cleo looked down into her lap; a look of guilt and remorse colored her face as she stared toward the injured girl in the cot before her. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I seem to recall another conversation that started with those words. It ended with you saying you hate me remember?"

"I never said I hate you."'

Clary blinked as she stared at the hazel-eyed beauty. Was she really going to look her in the eye and lie? Did she really have that much of a lack of dignity?

"Are you seriously going to stand there and lie?" Clary scoffed before throwing her hands in the air. Cleo blinked her dark eyelashes at her; calm, cool and collected. Clary wanted to hit her. "That night, before I left, in my room; you said you hated me the moment you saw me."

Cleo nodded her head. "Yes, I did."

Clary flinched confused all over again. "Then what are you saying?"

She sighed and ran a hand through her blue locks before taking a step toward her. "I said I hated you and I did but I don't hate you now, just as I didn't hate you then; it was all out of jealously." She shrugged.

"Jealousy?" Clary squeaked completely and utterly surprised. Cleo was jealous of her, Clary Morgenstern? The girl most referred to as Valentine's daughter? The one that had no sex appeal what-so-ever; that Clary. None of this was making any sense to her.

"Well, yeah, duh." Cleo said with a smile. "There's a light in you, Clary. There's something special about you, more than just your way with runes. It's something indescribable; it's something in here." Cleo said as she placed a hand over her own heart. "I knew you were going to amount to great things; things I would never have the strength to do." She blinked back tears as she locked eyes with Clary. "You are amazing, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, and you don't even realize it."

Clary felt her lip quiver as she watched Cleo look down at her shoes and glance over her shoulder. "But we do." She said the words with her head turned away from Clary before she turned back. "He does; you're the only one he's ever **seen**, Clary." She shrugged her shoulders again as Clary thought of a different time; a time where there had been a large moon that took up the whole sky and a jar full of pie filling, of chaste kisses and grabby hands, of whispered promises and spoken love. "Anyone would be jealous of that kind of love: the kind that can move the stars and the moon; that can burn the world or rise it up in glory."

Clary blinked as she watched Cleo swallow. "I thought it was supposed to be me." She said with another weak shrug. "But it wasn't. I think he's always been waiting for you."

Clary gave her a weak smile before she reached a hand out and took Cleo's. It was warm and loose before the other girl tighten her hold on her.

Clary didn't know what happened after Valentine had brought his sword down. She didn't know how she ended up here with a patch to her chest and healing runes covering her body. But in that moment, as she sat with her hand in Cleo's, she knew it had all been worth it.

Every single moment.

* * *

She stood before the crowd uncertain as she glanced down at her attire; the black jacket she wore crossed over her chest covering every inch of skin and fit her snuggly, the black stretch pants to match fit just as well but allowed for freedom to kick, flip, and jump with ease. The combat boots, made for easy escape and balance, were perfect as she stood on her tip toes before going back to the balls of her feet. Her fingerless, leather gloves made it easier for her to grip her blade as she curled her hands into fists before unclenching them.

She was more than nervous, she was frightened. Standing before her family and the Hall of Accords, Clary took a breath and walked up the steep stone steps. It was all over; Valentine had been buried just hours earlier as she stepped onward toward the Inquisitor, who gazed down at her with a look of pride.

After her moment with Cleo, all her friends had rushed in. Fawning over her and talking all at once. Her eyes had been frantically scanning over them all not knowing who to focus on before she settled on Jace, who sat beside her and just stared at her. He said nothing because nothing needed to be said. He simply smiled and she returned it instantly before he kissed her. The world seemed to melt away after that.

Her mother stepped in not long after and explained what happened; Jace squeezed her hand every so often to reassure her that it was over. Max had sprinted from his hiding spot and had seen the stand-off between herself, Jace, and Valentine. He had acted quickly; sprinting away as he rushed back to the battleground where Valentine's team of demons still had the upper hand. He rushed toward his mother who had barked the news to Jocelyn. She had ran quickly toward the beam as it vanished from view in a burst of white light.

She came just in time to see Valentine raise his sword high above his head and bring it down towards his daughter. Clary, who had passed out from blood that seeped through the unseen cuts upon her body, lay under her father's sword as it pierced her skin. He never got to finish before Jace slammed into him and they came down in a furry of arms and legs. Jocelyn took the moment to spring as she rushed forward; Valentine smashed Jace's head down hard on one of the stone steps of the altar; a health gash taking refuge upon his tanned face as he crumpled under the blow, his hand outstretched toward Clary.

Valentine wasted no time as he lifted his blade back up only to make a gurgling, choking sound. He watched with wide eyes as a drop of blood fell from his chest onto his daughter's cheek before he looked behind his in stunned amazement.

Jocelyn stood before him like a Goddess against the night; her red hair swirling around her head like fire as she curled her lip up in disgust. "Don't touch my daughter. Ever. Again."

She had held Clary close to her as she had told the tale; speaking carefully as if to take the memories of her father back. To all the time's his fist had been raised, for every crack his hand had made against her cheek or all the bruises his foot had left on her stomach.

Then they had told her she was to be honored.

And here she was now. Stepping onto the make-shift stage to accept a medal she didn't truly deserve from a crowd of people who should have been disgusted by her presence. She looked outward into the crowd before blinking. Vampires stood alongside werewolves as warlocks stood by Shadowhunters. She watched the merging scene with wide eyes. She had made this.

This was her creation.

And they were acknowledging just that.

"We are here to bestow upon, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, a high honor…"

The Inquisitor's voice faded from her ears as she looked out toward the crowd. She squinted before she smiled brightly at the figure that stood, hauntingly in the back. She gave Brother Zachariah a slight nod to which the Silent Brother returned as he turned his back to her. Sinking back into the shadow's he knew suitably.

"_Well done, Valentine's daughter._"

Clary felt herself bite her lip against the smile that wanted to spread across her face as his voice filled her head. Her eyes looked back to the crowd before they landed on the only family she knew; who stood in an embarrassing huddle near the front of the stage, clapping and whistling in glee. Isabelle screamed as Alec clapped with a large smile resting upon his face. Magnus stood with an arm around his waist and a secretive smile. When her gaze locked with his, he sent her a glittered wink. Luke and her mother stood cheering as did Maryse and Robert. Max sat high on his father's shoulders so he could properly see over the crowd.

She let out a soft laugh as her eyes landed on the only thing that could make her heart melt. She locked eyes with the only man she could ever have a future with as Cleo's words formed in her head again.

"_Anyone would be jealous of that kind of love: the kind that can move the stars and the moon; that can burn the world or rise it up in glory."_

Clary couldn't have agreed with her more. From this point on she and Jace would be unstoppable. The world would be their playground as they explored every inch of love they had for each other. He grinned brightly before rolling his eyes in a teasing manner at their overly dramatic family. She felt the giggle leave her mouth as she lipped three small words that held the world.

He smiled brighter as he lipped them back.

A hand touched her shoulder as they turned her toward them. The Inquisitor placed a gold pin upon her jacket. "This medal is to remind us of the girl who fought for us when we couldn't fight for ourselves. The girl who was our salvation."

A loud roar took over the crowd as Jace cupped his hands over his mouth and let out a loud cry of glee, clapping just as strong and loud as the rest of them. His golden hair shined in the glowing sun as his eyes gleamed with mischief and adoration; an enchanting song that pulled her in immediately and made her never want to look away.

Here she stood on the stone steps of the Hall of Accords; a place that was to be seen by only the eyes of another world, one separated from the human existence. For the eyes of lycanthropes and vampires; of fairies, warlocks and witches; of the ominous and menacing demons that lurked in each shadow and damp corner. For the eyes of the warriors made of virtuousness and purity but with the same taste for righteousness as demons had for corruption. The warriors made to extinguish the darkness of the world and to keep the humans settled safely at night; children of the Angels.

Shadowhunters.

That was who she was.

A girl who had found a home.

A girl who had grown her own set of wings.

A girl who had found the love of her existence.

Just your average Shadowhunter.

Just Clarissa Adele Morgenstern.

* * *

**And here our story comes to an end. I hope you all liked it.**

**And if you didn't, well…I'm sorry to disappoint.**

**I know what you're all probably thinking. Why didn't Clary kill Valentine? **

**I always thought it should be Clary or Jocelyn who should kill Valentine.**

**Jocelyn because it's soft of her redemption for marrying and *ahem* sharing a bed with such a foul man as was earlier highlighted in the second chapter. So I decided to give everyone closure: Jocelyn and Clary.**

**AW, EVERYONE'S HAPPY! AND CLEO TURNED GOOD!**

**Did you see the quotes from both the movie and the books that I put in there? Huh? Huh? *wink, wink***

**If you have any questions feel free to PM me!**

**Oh, and please leave a review. Don't be one of those people who just follows the story or favorites it. It always makes an author want to write more when they know people want to read it.**

**Hey, here's a question for you all: What's the craziest thing you'd like to do before you die?**

**REVIEW!**


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